


The Room Service

by spnsmile



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Boys Kissing, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Happy Ending, Happy Sex, Hot, Hot Sex, Hotel Sex, Hotels, Idiots in Love, Jealous Castiel (Supernatural), Jealous Dean Winchester, Jealousy, Kissing, Love, Love Hotels, Love at First Sight, Love/Hate, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Overprotective Castiel (Supernatural), Overprotective Dean Winchester, POV Dean Winchester, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Romantic Face Punching, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexy Times, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soul mate, Strangers to Lovers, Sweet, Sweet/Hot, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, True Love, falling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24698587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsmile/pseuds/spnsmile
Summary: ‘Hands off, Pants on!’Dean Winchester has groomed himself to be a professional room service staff providing hotel guests with all the necessities they need while catering to all mundane whims and complaints except one: keep hands off the staff. Until a mysterious blue-eyed guy enters the 7th heaven floor and shakes Dean’s steamy dreams. And after saving Dean from one dangerous stalker, it seems like the restriction is practically flying off the window for his grumpy blue-eyed hero.Hotel x Destiel AU
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 44
Kudos: 144
Collections: BottomDeanBigBang2020





	1. Off the Menu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Thanks to @bottomdeanbigbang and my great artist Uddelhexe who helped me through the story! Thank you so much for all the inputs! I'm so happy we're live now!
> 
> For readers who will see the action unfold through her arts, check here! She's awesome!
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/uddelhexe

The most bizarre things can happen in the corridors of a hotel, and as a hotel service crew, Dean Winchester is expected to deal with everything the guests throws at him with the utmost _discretion._ He is expected to act impersonal, with conduct, discreet— _professional_ on the job whether he runs into an angry wife demanding for the keycard of her cheating husband, or a naked man _or woman_ running in the corridor with nothing but hotel blankets covering their precious jewels to escape the wrath of the offended legal partners. He is to keep the straightest face, assures the other guests that everything is in control while noting on the room number where the accounting staff can charge the missing blankets on the credit card of the owner and proceed like nothing is out of order. 

Etiquette 101 is carved on stone in the hospitality industry, a trade Dean boasts with confidence for no one is more suitable in the job than his friendly, charming, and flexible characteristics plus winning personality. 

_Service_ was pounded on him by his late veteran father who served the army for fifteen years. John Winchester who made _service to the public_ his badge of honor rather than the money it brought, and someone who gives damn that his sons are brought up as righteous civilians.

So, it’s a given that Sam runs to law school (Dean wasn’t surprised, Sam's has been reciting the constitution since he was eleven) while Dean wades his interest in social circles into being—discovering his latent talent in social interaction, making atmosphere engaging and light wherever he goes (because he is fucking hilarious). An example of which was during a high school prom where he was part of a very tight committee, able to work with even the most difficult people and flexible enough for others to be comfortable with and easily become everyone's favorite guy.

Dean doesn't hold back smiles and pleasantries— he helps everyone, likes looking people in the eyes, and make them agreeable to the point even his normally grumpy football coach praised him for being a _talented speaker._

Dean thought they were making fun of him being the football captain because who were they kidding? Dean plenty of pep talks to his teammates at that time, but several years later, fruition came to be when he worked part-time in a family restaurant and found himself comfortable with _taking care of people._

That’s where it began. His _lessons._ The real place where the gears in his mind just click. A place where he meets the demands of people except he raised the standard. He worked part-time in different fast-food chains and all those times he observed, studied, and _got involved hands-on._ He doesn't adapt to the mentality that work is a separate entity. If John Winchester can make service as part of the family business, then Dean is going to make himself proud.

He compares, he tries to decide the best option when there’s a problem on the floor. There's a certain thrill about when he makes the right moves against people, pacifying anger and making patrons out of happy people. And he later figured out, in the end, he wanted more. He wanted to be the best. He can see his way before him.

He wanted to be at the top. But the challenge isn't found in the fast-food chains, no. He wants the sky.

He wants to become a hotel manager.

And it didn’t come easy as Dean had to work hard through college for it, learning all the basics and learning to put a wall behind his professional career and more personal life. It was easy as wearing a mask and still enjoy it. But in order to get the top, he needs to work his way from the bottom. So it came as an icing in the cake when his application was chosen by one of the most prestigious hotels in Kansas, _Eden Grand Hotel_ for his internship, applying the second they were told to send an application for its grandeur doesn’t disappoint. Dean basks in learning from the best, but also he knows for a fact that the most classic and vintage cars are right there in the underground parking lot. Not that it was his ulterior motive but grand hotels do host a heap of celebrities, owning the best cars in the market and he would offer to be a valet or attendant anytime for free.

His hard work paid six months later with an internship under the capable hands of Director Singers who notoriously kept Dean on his toes while working in the room service department. Dean worked his ass off with a goal to reach the top for the pay was heavenly and opportunity _limitless_. Dean likes people anyway, disarming them with his most charming smile and charisma. It’s been noted he can swoon a boatload of men and women too. He doesn’t envy the housekeepers though, collecting trays is part of the job but he hears the most disgusting complaints of his friends, scrubbing whatever it was that needed scrubbing inside bathrooms and they weren't talking about the toilet alone.

The things they find sticking to walls…

But he chose the Eden Grand Hotel that boasts of fine dining, luxury guest rooms, and prime service that makes it paradise for most guests. Hotel Standard operating procedures are bible to which Dean is trained for at heart. Any criticisms of guests no matter who, any _complaints at all_ Dean can win and sway mood even of the most disapproving client. Dean is pleasing and gallant like that, thereby earning him the _employee of the month_ for five consecutive months and would’ve been in front of _Hotelier KS_ this month except he had to refuse the only given date because it’s his brother’s graduation and that's a heck priority to him. Dean’s fine when they took a different model, he can take the next month’s issue if they want, but Dean can't continue pushing his luck with the hotel offers, not when one of them was bound to change his life forever. Dean is a workaholic but he still likes life, likes people, and likes to fuck outside the clock. Work doesn’t stop him giving to his needs and when one Charlie Bradbury figured out Dean’s taste in less than a month after refusing invitations and number requests from customers and co-workers inviting him for double dates with the ladies. Charlie caught him, they've been thick as thieves since. 

Dean was in a good mood that day, his shift was almost over. Charlie comes bustling in, ambushing him in the locker room, telling him of a setup requested by someone Dean will undoubtedly like while he was unbuttoning his white uniform. Charlie doesn't care Dean naked, not her cup of tea. It's that day he finds out this nerdy buddy of his has set him up with a blind date.

“What makes you think you can set me up with anyone without my permission?” Dean says with a smirk, “Get off my back, Charlie. You think I can't get anyone I want?"

"I think you get everyone you want, Dean but this is different."

"How so?"

"This guy actually knows you and wants you!"

Dean chuckles and refrains from replying. He can sense Charlie's anxiety. "I don't know, Charle, I might be dating someone,"

"Come on, you dated but they were never your type material."

"I don't know what that even means,"

“Sheesh, Dean, instead of thanking me for the opportunity of finding you someone as hot as the Dr. Sexy guy you’ve been drooling on tv in the lounge area during breaks?” she tips her head outside the door where she is leaning with arms crossed, “Tell me you’re not interested with someone hot, blonde and blue-eyed?”

“Dr. Sexy has a very dark, hair I'll run my hands forever,” Dean says, but his brain is working as he gives Charlie a suspicious look, “This guy got you on a collar, Char... what's that, is he some kind of psycho who’ll zip me in the bag after getting laid?”

“I’m not kidding, Dean… this guy is to meet for.” But she doesn’t elaborate further. “He wants you. You in?”

Dean stops unfastening the last of his button. It’s been a while since he last dated, an acquaintance from another hotel bar—some hot bartender named Benny he’s had a crush on but their schedule doesn’t match often and well, Dean hates absence the most. The idea that someone wants him already makes his insides tingle. Besides, Charlie wouldn’t just set him up with anyone dangerous.

“Yeah, fine. Where?”

Charlie actually squeals and it's her thing when she is excited over a _ship_ thing, and Dean doesn't talk about that one in the ocean blue. It's the one Charlie had roped him watching Harry Potter stuff and Lord of the Rings where man and elf can be together.

“CavaBien,” at the look of Dean’s face, she shrugs, “So he’s very generous and thinks you’d like it. I mean, I did mention you like their steak.”

Dean’s jaw drops. Cava Bien is a top rank French restaurant in the city where reservations are almost impossible without connections. For someone like this to be his date? Who sold their souls to hell?

Dean licks his lips as he pierces Charlie a look.

“Seriously, Charlie, did I do anything good to you? Or are you pulling a late April Fool’s joke on me?” eyes narrowing, he adds, “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?"

“Ugh, why is it so hard for you to believe someone’s ready to spend so much for your time? Come on, this is once in a lifetime, you know I rarely get involved in you love life—" she grins smugly.

“Yeah, right! So remember Aaron and then there's Damien," Dean counts with his hands. Charlie gives up smiling.

“Seriously, Dean! Honest, you’ll like this man.” 

“How did you even met him?”

Charlie’s face turn pink, “Okay, let’s say it’s a coincidence? This nice guy approached me asking about you—I told him you’re free—which is the truth, you said you and Benny didn’t work out. And I figured it’s going to be a nice change for you to mee this guy. I mean, he does find you very attractive, Dean, so that should excite you. He wants _you_ then I gotta tell you, Dean you won’t want to miss this. I’d gladly take your blind date but he isn’t my type all. So you're really going, right? I can tell him it's a go?"

“I already told you it’s fine.”

“Yay!” Charlie punches the air, “Fair warning, you don’t make him wait, okay? You can play hard to get with the customers playing your winks and smiles, but don’t be late with this one. The guy’s fairly punctual. Don’t even see why he likes you.” she grins mischievously.

Dean quirks a smile. This 'date' thing is becoming very intriguing to him. For one, everyone knows Charlie is a genius and does not incline to anything but the badass. He is sure whoever the guy is probably more than just a stalker in the hotel, to even make the _Charlie Bradbury,_ sweet by profession, loyal by standard agree to become a medium. That's how much he trusts Charlie. He is sure it isn't his weirdo photographer stalker at least, so he agrees. Charlie tells him it’s Friday night. Dean always has Saturday off and she probably didn’t want to limp all the way to work if things worked out. 

So Dean waits. He even finds himself looking forward to Friday.

Everything was perfect and uneventful that week except for his weird photographer who keeps appearing wherever Dean is stationed. He's gotten used to it already that he, and most of the staff, ignore him as long as he doesn't distract other clients. It's creepy, yes, but Dean isn't easily offended, John didn't raise him to be such a privilege sort.

So Dean usually spies him whenever he is called in the dining area when his floor is cleared and whenever he interacts with guests. Dean knows they should do more than reprimand the guy for taking the photos, but he is more than generous anyway and gives his most pleasant smile across the man hiding on the next table to see him get flustered, and makes sure to turn his back when he sees the guy taking his pictures. Six months of appreciation and attention from clients, he knows how to roll them in his hands, and like what his trainer said, you play by the customer’s affections. 

He doesn’t know why the paparazzi bother with him (it's the same photographer he saw following some stud celebrity Jensen Ackles who stayed in the hotel) as long as they don’t really get in contact. Employees are protected by state laws against any harassment with the ‘ _Hands off’_ and alarms for any employees to alert their stations.

But the guy is much smaller than him and no doubt Dean can shove him easily if attacked. That was unlikely to happen. And anyway, Charlie has prepared all kinds of section offense if things escalate. When asked about it by his Director, Bobby, Dean reports the guy doesn’t pose any harm. Dean doesn’t encourage him though, doesn’t wish to see the collection of his incriminating photos on his wall. Dean will deal with him next time. He tells himself that every day.

He doesn't.

Come Friday, it's lucky there is no celebrity of the week that gets the entire staff up to their toes. There are less rude clients in a sports car, more suspicious men in suit taking up a whole space on the eight floors, but that’s none of Dean’s business. He enters the lounge room after clocking in to find Bobby doing some pep talk with the Room Service Department because room 707 is once again _booked._

Which means one thing—

“The Blue-eyed demon is back,” Charlie says, lips curling, expression triumphant and gleaming.

“Who?” Garth calls across the room, still in his white and black uniform. 

“He’s a ghost, Garth, and anyone who sees him can die the next day.” Answers Ana indifferently, perched on the couch in her miniskirt. “I’ve never seen him either, it’s always his assistant that goes around flirting in the reception hall.”

“We have a reserved room for god of death?” Garth calls looking awed. 

“Point is, kid, that room vacant for almost a year will require attention on the most unexpected time and I’ll need a special crew only assigned to it 24/7.”

“24/7?” Dean stands by the doorway with arms crossed looking thoughtful. “The guy doesn’t sleep?”

“On the contrary, he always sleeps when he’s here and lack of it makes him the beast if you enter his lair and undisturbed,” Charlie tells them. Dean raises a hand.

“Uh, question— why do we tolerate special demands like that?"

“Because we’re the fucking hospitality troop, idjit, and because your next assignment on Monday is 707 so better pull on your best suit and wish he doesn’t open his eyes when you tiptoe in his room, get that?”

“Cool, do I get a spacesuit and alien poker?” 

"Depends if you dig dip, try knifing the guy in the heart, then tell us when you're back," Bobby replies.

Everyone bursts out laughing. Dean chuckles. The question was meant to make Bobby tell them the guy’s identity that didn’t quite work. But he nods and asks for the client’s folder to study for the weekend and they were dismissed. 

"Must be someone important?” Garth changes shirt beside him with his shift over, Dean ready on the floor.

“Everyone's important, dude,” Dean shrugs his jacket off, "or at least, everyone has special needs and that's what Bobby's saying about the whole 'we're hospitality troop,'"

Garth snickers, "You're really a good space cadet, Dean."

He heads out of the locker room thinking about room 707. It’s generally known in his station that the blue-eyed demon is a family member of the owner of the hotel giving him _celebrity status_ with the reservation form in the database of their important clients.

Dean has heard countless stories about 707 from the senior service crew about this guy haunting room 707, sometimes there, a lot of times not. One popular is that Christmas last year where no one was on the 7th floor, not guests or the like, next thing they know there’s someone ringing in the room by midnight that sent everyone in chaos. They delivered what he needed only to find the guy just checked out second later, it’s crazy. No one really knows what he does, but he did get a senior member fired for being 'inadequate in services’ and continued being in a foul mood that the service crew fears the seventh floor, thus earning him the title the _Blue-Eyed-Demon._

Dean can’t be sure of other details except for one more thing.

 _The blue-eyed demon_ is known for being hot. Dean can’t wait to judge for himself. There are too many people who can attest to his godly form. Dean admires beauty, though, with the rest of things he's heard about the guy is making him believe he’s a real dick. Then again, no one is perfect.

The day almost went by without any hitch and Dean’s almost ready for his date, until he finds himself getting locked in one of the guest's rooms and a client advancing on him. Dean shakes his head because _luck, so he nuts him_. He hates the aftermath of making a written report about it, but when a dude you don’t know show interest while only in his towel, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Bobby is livid.

 _“_ Look, I understand we have the _Health and Safety Initiative_ ordinance to protect our asses, but if you nut every guest that goes as far looking down your junk—"

“You mean you want me to let him have a cop a feel—?”

“Of course not, kid. But what do you think are the panic buttons in every room are for?”

“But I didn’t panic.” Dean reasons, “I was doing my job. What happened to the company line ‘ _Hands off, Pants On’, hotel space,_ and no fucking around? The guy was drunk as hell— I gave him a warning for staring at my ass. He should be grateful to cut his losses.”

“Cut his losses? Ugh. It’s like I never taught you anything during orientation, Dean?” Charlie indignantly.

"It's fine, Charle, he didn't even get to touch me.” Dean counters.

“That's not the point. We don't need to tolerate this kind of treatment! Oh, Dean, you’re still the nice little green-gables kid since your first day. Enough with the principle ‘cut his loses’ crap, he was asking for a hundred-dollar fine settlement. With your ass, you can ask a thousand. Talk to Sam. He should know the cost of damage for emotional upset and all the cloud nine candy-pansies. C’mon, Dean, you know how this world works.” 

Dean grimaces, “You're the one who's the ace, Charlie, but nah, I don't wanna make it long.” 

"Let me at him," Charlie winks. Dean smirks.

Bobby grumbles between them.

“Okay, enough, you two. I thought this was supposed to be a private meeting?” he looks around the other employees. Around nine service staff are watching them from the open door, Charlie being nearest and leaning on the door.

“Our guests have the rights of the best service. We are professionals. We trained you for this, right?”

Dean slowly bows his head at Bobby's scrutiny.

“Who’s on the floor?” Bobby asks looking down his watch. It’s past nine where most of the guests are satisfied in their rooms, only expecting a little number of room services at the hour.

“Garth is,” Kevin answers just outside the room, “And the guest on 606 has already fallen asleep.”

Bobby turns to Dean still looking critical. Dean knows the lecture is coming—about how the moment the crew loses the screw in heat of the moment, not only will the company suffer losses from bad advertising, it’s also gonna lose in the market pretty bad both trusts and stars because they are trained for those occurrences. Dean finds himself shrinking a little, eyes falling on the floor.

“You know we don’t tolerate sexual harassment but we have a different way, _an appropriate way of dealing with customer behavior._ We ban them from the hotel. I think you already know the impact, I thought you aced the in-depth disclosure agreement and discretion, Dean? You just dug your own hole in this industry, you know what I mean? When we’re expected to do the right thing in any situation—you decide to nut our customer. That’s a red mark, kid. We don’t cause _trouble_. When we go out of this room, we are professionals, do you understand? If there are immediate concerns like this we report—we do the appropriate thing or I can’t protect you, do you get that?” he is mostly looking at Dean now who nods at the floor.

“Good. Chuck’s already taking care of it with 606. Since it’s an attempt as Dean described it’s either two things—he will be escorted out of the hotel or …”

Dean stares intently at his manager. This job might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but it has its merits and Dean does want it. It's the only thing he's got.

“It’s just a warning, right?” he swallows.

“Lucky you, you got five best employees of the month so if this goes to court, at least we can fish you out with that. We’ll be changing your shift. If the guy sues for physical damage, we’ll cross the bridge when we get there—but next time try to keep your punch with legal papers! That’s how it works here, idjits.”

“Yes, sir.” Dean nods sincerely.

Bobby surveys him for a second with beady eyes turning soft in the corners. Dean doesn’t get better treatment just because he and Bobby are friends outside work but right now, he clings to them like hope.

“Alright fine.” Bobby sighs, “All of you know the guidelines. Follow that we won’t have a problem. We’re dealing with guests and properly compensated for our time. Things like this happen all the time, and you brush off what you can but if it gets too personal you speak up, take it where you want but remember, our goal is _hospitality._ That’s our milieu. We can’t serve them well if we don’t know how to protect ourselves and the company’s reputation. We deliver the highest standard of service at every interaction, always courteous and attentive that makes them _choose us._ Something that differentiates us from cheap motels who can do good and better so we do best. Consistent exceptional service of the staff— we go to extreme lengths to make them feel relax after the crap they have outside. Trained to deal with temper tantrums to the last mundane request of the customer— people do shits and give other people shit, but in our place, we kill their bad mood with pleasantries. On top of everything, it’s the complaints we try to avoid _not to answer to the best of our abilities_ in the first place. If they'd wanted to get smacked for it, they'd sleep on the street. We exist for comfort, That’s the kind of Five Star hotel that we are."

“Unless they ask if we’re on the menu,” Charlie smirks earning a few chuckles.

“And what will be our answer to that, Charlie?” Bobby snaps, chewing her alive.

Charlie’s expression becomes serious, “ _We do not provide that service_.”

“Good.” Bobby eyes everyone. “It’s long hours for everyone and difficult customers, but we’re in here because we can raise standards, let’s do our job first before we bring the street rules here, people. Don’t forget your training, kids.”

“Yeah, Winchester,” Charlie smirks. Dean shakes his head.

“Now go. Our guests are not made to be waiting.”

Bobby turns to Dean when everyone disperses. Dean heaves a sigh and looks him in the eyes.

“Sorry, Bobby.”

“You know we’re in the Human Resources Industry kid. The way things work here is how you play them, people, by pleasing their essential needs and not get in any trouble. We play by the rules and if they don’t, we do not get violent. That’s the number one rule.” 

“I know, I know. It just ticked me off. That dude’s been watching me for more than a week now.”

“Yeah, also heard him asking around about you. This Leo? Is he...”

“I don’t swing his way, not with clients, you know me."

“Well, whatever, as long as you clocked in this hotel your eight hours is to remain as professionally present as you can. You’re usually very charming and I know there had been some advances but this is the first time you couldn’t handle yourself. Happened to your social talent, kid?”

“I know, something about him just ticked me the wrong way.” Dean shakes his head again, “Won’t happen again.”

“Chuck’s already issued a warning and put a tab on the guy, I’m not sure if he can ask him to leave yet. Human Resources will definitely hear this by tomorrow, but I gotta tell you now officially your shift has just changed. Garth can cover your remaining hours. You’ll be switching with him come Monday.”

Dean groans. Bobby pats his shoulder. “Yep. We can’t keep the lamb when the wolf’s awake. I’m putting you on your twilight zone. Garth says he’s willing to take another shift until you come around, but that’s really up to you. 4 am is your mark starting next week. And don’t forget to watch the temper. You’re on 707.

“Yeah,” Dean says distractedly.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Dean glances up nodding, “Thanks, Bobby.”

He goes straight to the locker room where he quickly sheds from his black uniform with his head already thinking of his blind date feeling a little uncomfortable. Maybe he shouldn’t do this after all. Shift changes normally occur but as much as possible Dean avoids the owl shift because he normally doesn't want to be asleep in the morning when Sam calls.

Still, he can’t complain now. The staff just did him a favor. He comes out thirty minutes later and finds Charlie waiting for him in the lobby with a cheeky grin. A grin that faded when she runs her eyes on his clothes.

“You going out with that?”

“Yeah, and invite him to my squeaky bed.” Dean rolls his eyes walking past her, “It’s fine, I’m gonna collect it in the dry cleaner.”

“So you’re gonna go after all?”

“Why? Wanna snag it up, tell the guy I got fired?”

“I wish I could, but my shift doesn’t end till ten so…”

“You worrying about my date makes me really want to freak out, Charlie! Who is this guy?" Dean demands that only got his friend giggling.

“Element of surprise, okay? Just go to him, jump in his arms if you like him! Forget about today! Forget about your new shift!"

"Yeah, like that's easy."

"Once you're in a hotel room, I bet..." Charlie smirks again and they both walk to the back door, “Enjoy that date, Dean, and tell me everything that happens alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, you too. In any case, if there's any news about the blue-eyed hot potato, you tell me too, okay?"

Charlie's eyes twinkle. "Dean, Dean, you haven't even started the date and you're already after the next piece of ass!"

“Shut up," Dean mutters, “Just curious, is all..."

“Oh, but he's also smoking hot... that Blue-Eyed-Demon on the 7th. You’d be begging for him.”

“I don't know, I mean I am pretty hot, I’m guessing my date isn’t missing any face value if he knows me.”

“Oh, you have no idea. You better get your ass out of here, Winchester and get on your panties before I kick you out here, you’re not allowed to be late!”

"If you just tell me who it is, maybe I'll get motivated!"

"Go!"

Despite wearing his new best suit, he bought for Sam’s graduation, Dean finds himself still nervous when he steps through the gleaming glass doors and illuminated carpeted floor of the Cava Bien. He is confident about his appearance, he is confident about attitude, it's Charlie's piece of 'element of surprise' he is not confident about because knowing Charlie... like, is this going to be Dr. Sexy? Dean will surely lose his shit. He pats his suit to compose himself.

Navy blue from head to foot with a striped necktie, Dean takes a second to look around the round tables of the posh French restaurant. People gather a lot in this kind of expensive restaurant and thought he is used by now with big groups having organized a number for specific assignments, Dean finds himself a little hesitant as he stares at the glinting elegance of marble walls and music band playing on the corner, to the valet waiting for his inquiries.

He flashes them a smile, knowing exactly how he wades himself in social venues and asks for the table number. They pointed to the left just near the tall glass window where a man with short dirty blonde hair is already sitting. Dean swallows hard and makes his way to his date, wishing with all his might that his wits are still with him when he finally reaches the table. He’s not new to dates, but when a guy’s waiting for you in a French restaurant, you have every reason to feel the butterfly in your stomach.

The guy looks up before Dean can reach the table and yes, blue eyes right there and short blonde but Dean has to stop halfway because the guy is familiar as fuck. Squaring his shoulders’, he takes hurried steps between tables because he is already late and maybe Charlie said not to be for a reason—

Dean freezes on the spot. 

“Mr. Winchester,” says Michael Milton- mogul businessman and CEO of Eden Grand Hotel, and just about Dean’s boss. 

Dean's jaw drops. It's hard not to act like a broken machine when he says a small high. _The fuck, Charlie Bradbury!_

Dean doesn't know what to do. His first instinct tells him to shake hands, second tell him you don't do that on a date! The third instinct is to stop thinking about work and fourth to stop just standing there while making his boss wait. Dean blinks to himself. Relax, he tells himself. This is just another guy who wants you.

It hits him harder. _His boss wants him._ Dean can't help laughing at his own joke (fucking his boss) that should not be mentioned under any circumstances, but it calms him. Guess he is really that hilarious.

Reaching the table, he clears his throat. He was offered a seat and the way Michael Milton’s eyes glued on him is incredibly… _discomfiting._ How do you look a guy in the eyes when he’s your boss? Dean smiles his best professional one.

“Mr. Milton…”

“Please, call me Michael…and sit down.” his voice is so deep, Dean remembers its power enough to awaken attention among his members. This is the real meaning of a guy in control and power. Dean gives a shaky laugh and takes the seat because his boss told him so, which reminded him, he was late for five minutes.

“Call me Dean…and I’m sorry, I’m usually punctual at work—”

“It’s okay, I just got here.” Michael takes the menu card and lifts a finger. A waiter is beside him in a flash that would have made Dean give him a thumbs up if the guy was even looking at him. No, the guy, courteous as he only has eyes to Dean's date. Michael Milton certainly is an eyecatcher.

Michael turns to Dean.

“Do you have any preference?” 

“Oh, uh…” Dean learned about measured actions in face of a tense situation and he’s proud to say he’s applied it here when he carefully takes the menu card from his side and makes a quick check on his favorite dishes. He likes everything as long as they’re not raw or half-cooked. He gives his orders, the waiter gracefully left the area with a promise of five minutes—a fear that makes Dean wonder if they prepared all the dishes on standby until Mr Milton snaps his fingers.

Really some important dude. Not to Dean yet.

"Thank you for inviting me out, it's a pleasure to meet you..."

“I’m happy you’re enjoying this. We haven’t really been properly introduced.” 

“I think I know you from all the general meetings, Mr. Milton,” Dean checks a smile.

“Is there a problem of calling me by my name?” asks the curious mogul.

"Oh not really, if you want me to..." Dean says, then adds in a conspirational tone, "Just don't expect me to call you that while we're at work," he badly wants to wink but the uninterested expression killed it.

"I don't expect it so," Michael notes.

"Oh...uh... okay..."

"What are your hobbies, Dean?"

At least the guy knows the key in making conversations flow. "Oh, I love vintage cars,"

"Vintage cars like?"

"Well, I have this 1967 chevy impala in my father's garage I'm still fixing-"

"Hmmm. Don't you want a newer one?"

Dean breaks into a burst of nervous laughter, "No, no, I love that car. It's my dad's gift when I graduated, see? So I just want restorations and looking for pieces had been hard, I do my own tinkering-"

"You are quite sentimental, I like that," Michael says and his dead expression killed it again. "Will you be opposed to dating me again, Dean?"

 _Yes._ Dean’s lip tightens. 

It’s like one of those meetings where he doesn’t want to be in.

A meeting that tenses his shoulders because it's not his forte which is unbelievable. Dates are his forte, meeting people is his game. But there's something about Michael Milton that is both intimidating and distant. One thing for sure, Dean's gonna murder Charlie first thing tomorrow morning because no, he’s not gonna get laid by their boss. It’s not something near etiquette at all, there’s just something missing here, something Dean likes whenever he’s on a date. Something he can’t pin at just yet.

“Um...You got Charlie into this…?” he badly wants to add _sir._ His instinct is telling him to be polite when in fact this should be the fun part because Dean likes meeting people and finding similar interests with them. Thinking about it, they do share something similar—so he talks about _Charlie?_

Michael’s nod is prim, “I have been admiring your performance since I met you two months ago. Most of the patrons are talking avidly of your services and in a way, it makes me admire your efforts to keep our clients happy.”

 _Performance and service_ should make Dean lose his shit now but he doesn’t. Fuck, this felt like a commendation meeting where he’s about to be promoted. Except—Dean wonders if it includes the getting laid part in the agreement. Now he's really gonna make Charlie so happy.

“— Ms. Bradburry caught me staring at you last week and offered to give your number.” Milton doesn’t look away; he doesn’t smile either. Are all tycoons that cold?

“I—you have our number on our profile…” Dean stammers, fingers fiddling the mantle of the table where Michael won’t see him.

“That’s why I asked her to set this up, if you were willing, of course.”

Dean is about to answer when something shakes the table. Michael picks up his phone with a nod at Dean who quickly nods and lets Michael talk about shareholders. Their orders came and Dean obliges himself to wait another two minutes before his boss is off the phone.

“You don’t clock out, do you?”

“What?” Michael lifts his eyes up like he’s staring at a wall.

“You know… _get out of work,_ stuff…” Dean shrugs and just about all the gestures he can make to swat the dull atmosphere slowly falling between them. He doesn’t want to make this uncomfortable when they see each other at work. Dean is a professional. “You bring it along with you—”

The phone rings again and Michael excuses himself again.

Dean licks his lips and attacks his meal. You don’t blame the boss for being so busy in keeping the hotel running. Frankly, Dean is happy with all his hard work. Michael is smiling at him when he finds Dean halfway done. Dean doesn’t care, if he’s not gonna get laid tonight, at least he’s going to make the dry cleaning of his coat worth it. 

“How’s work, Dean?” says Michael out of nowhere as he slices

Dean cringes but so much training has given him the quick reflex on masking his reactions well. But you don’t talk about _work_ with your boss on a _date._

Then again, this isn’t one, Dean tells himself.

“It’s fine, the week went by smoothly for the guests…” Dean, usually so chatty and flexible and able to talk about anything suddenly realizes _he can’t talk about everything with this guy._ “I got home fairly early, that’s one… got a call from my brother with his work going well.”

“You have a brother?”

“Yeah, I mean he’s busy as hell, Sam’s—”

Michael fishes his phone out with an apologetic look over Dean. One look at the phone and Michael stands up to walk to the window. It must be someone important. It took him only a minute before his boss comes back with a frown on his handsome face because he is, he will give Charlie that.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I have to go.”

Dean stares when Michael calls for the waiter and checks the bill with his card. Michael looks genuinely sorry and Dean tries to find in him any feelings of resentment. There’s none. He stands up and extends his hand.

“Nothing you can do if it’s business, sir. Nice meeting you.”

Michael stares at Dean then at Dean’s hand before shaking it. They both know it's not going to work out. 

“Do you want a ride home—?”

“Oh, no sir. I uh… I’ll manage.” Dean tucks his hands on his side with his practiced smile not giving out anything because there’s nothing. His boss is busy, he gets that and even if there’s a chance for them, it probably wouldn’t work. The way how Michael comes and goes…Dean doesn't fit in any of that.

Michael nods and walks away, leaving Dean watching before he takes his seat again. Michael hardly touched his food while Dean’s plate is almost empty. The table looks lonely without his date though and Dean wonders for a second what to do with the untouched champagne. He can take it home, sure… but share it with who? He's got no one back at home. He glumly thinks of home and he thinks of his brother, but his brother's got his own thing now and Dean can't be the clingy one no matter how much fond he is of Sam.

Loneliness grips him tight. Michael walking away like his many other relationships has become a pattern in the past few years and Dean wonders if he is the problem.

He must be staring hard at his champagne enough to attract attention because the next thing he knows, someone slides down the opposite chair, taking Michael’s spot gracefully he might’ve fallen from the sky with wings.

“It’s a crime to leave someone so beautiful alone in the table.”

The deep voice catches Dean by surprise. He glances up and is assaulted by a pair of dazzling blue eyes that fall heavily on his face. Dean blinks.

It struck him how anything extraordinary would and Dean forgets words, he forgets to breathe, he forgets time ticking as he gazes back and the first thing he acknowledges when his brain stops the short-circuiting is _shit—_

_This guy is hot._

Dark hair, strong jaw with five o’clock stubble under the dim light of the lamp behind Dean comes out one of those dark princes not to save the princess at all but to mess her. Dean will proclaim himself the princess any day the way those eyes rake at him— the incredible blue eyes flickering his way with so much _want and interest_ — not like Michael-blue—but really _crazy ocean blue with a sparkling surface_ , the kind of blue you’d want to drown in and it’s not water. Glinting to him, staring so fixedly like Dean’s the most interesting thing in the room.

Dean's breath catches. He doesn't realize how dry his lips are until the guy stares down his mouth like he wants to do is more than to kiss him. Dean doesn't believe the butterflies in his stomach will survive this. Who is this hot stuff? 

“Can I get you a drink?”

Dean is hyperaware of the man's intent eyes on his lips. He swallows and boy did the man smirk?

“I got myself covered for that, thanks,” Dean says carefully, half reaching for the bottle of champagne in the wine bucket, ice melting to a point.

The man’s crystal eyes don't leave Dean. No, this guy definitely wasn’t interested in any drinks at all that don't have Dean on top. _How can one man exude sex appeal?_ Even Dean can't have that much... he squirms in his seat. The guy is doing things to him by just staring.

“Dean Winchester,” Dean says before he forgets all his training.

He doesn’t raise his hand, the guy looked like he won’t return it anyway. Might just eat Dean right there and then. Dean doesn't question the interest in those blue eyes. Dean himself is captivated.

“Castiel.”

The name is thunder on his lips.

The moment Dean tries to repeat it, it rolled smoothly on his tongue like an electric bolt giving his body a good shake. Trained as he is to the accuracy of phonetics, the name comes out powerful and something else. He notices the sharpness of Castiel’s dark suit less the tie, two buttons left unfastened. His cuffs are clean. His hair?

Dean stares.

So... did the guy just went to the restaurant after getting someone laid? The thought sent some damn messages in his brain and he flushes. Dean lifts his eyes to find Castiel smiling at him.

I hope you don't mind, I just can't help it... seeing you like that."

"Like what?" Dean raises an eyebrow.

The blue eyes gleam.

"Beautifully alone."

"I'm not," Dean flushes. He tries to save himself but Castiel nods at the untouched plate.

"It didn't work out with him?"

He's been watching the whole thing then?

"It's a business meeting, something private."

"And do people like that bring business to something romantic like this?"

Dean grimaces. No matter how much hot this guy is and no matter how much Dean wants to get laid by him, he will not tolerate disrespect to his boss. Dean knows his loyalty and it went with the guy taking care of the hotel he works at.

"So he is generous, and the appeal is there. Don't you think I'm worth the money spent?"

"I think you're worth more," blue eyes gleam darkly of want.

"Really?" Dean catches on the suggestive tone and he's not prepared for it. He is not prepared for anything this guy has for installed for him, “Uh… would you like a drink?” Dean eyes the champagne bucket on the tray with two wine glasses. It's more instincts when he stood up to serve, really. He carefully uncorks the bottle aware someone is watching him intently. He sees a waiter approach their table but he waved him away dismissively, fills Castiel’s glass and then his own glass with precision, freehand behind him.

Dean doesn't get any more turned on than pouring wine like that. He knows his angles are all correct, knows Castiel must notice his broad body, his hips, his ass, nothing can get Dean in the spotlight than that. Castiel’s eyes bore on him. Dean returned to his seat casually, his body wondering where they will get to the fun part. He should be uncomfortable with all the attention but Dean doesn’t find it offending unlike his stalkers and creepy photo takers.

Castiel’s attention gives him a different kind of want… a need flaming at the pit of his regions.

“You look like a professional,” Castiel comments first, raising the glass on Dean who chuckles and shakes his head.

“You have no idea.” He bottoms up the wine then shudders at the bittersweet warmth sliding down his throat that sent boost to his hazy brain. He inhales before looking up, confident smile back on his lip much to the new guy’s amusement.

“Tell me what you do for a living, beautiful?"

Dean rests his elbows on the table ready to engage the sexy man in the suit. "I serve people."

It shouldn't have come out hotter than it should, but Castiel's nose flares and Dean can just see his whole body flushing.

 _Shit._ So he is getting laid after all.

"What kind of service do you offer?" comes the tricky question said in a voice so heavy in arousal, Dean feels the heat rush up to his head. He gulps hard but is driven by one thing.

"Something off the menu," he plants the bomb.

"I see... Would I be given your special offer?" Castiel picks it and twirls in his tongue.

Dean’s face feels hot at the second bottom’s up and he’s not even the guy who got dumped tonight. Just when Dean thinks he's figured out what he wants, Castiel's tongue distracts him from thinking further. The red tip flicks his pink upper lip—and god his lips—Dean doesn’t know how he could have missed it. So artfully shaped and full in every way, he can’t help thinking of them swollen if it crashes against his own— if it gets close to reach.

"What about you? Don't you have anyone here-?"

“I’m not interested in anyone else in this room. I want you and that means now." The piercing blue eyes are trying to drown him again and they’re working fast on Dean's stirring cock. In a beat, he understands the look and the echo of Castiel’s last words.

“I think we’ve established that.” Dean smiles warmly with excitement hitting his belly and all he wants to do is to see beyond the open collar, to the muscles beneath the thick suit jacket, the built of his body because he doesn’t doubt Castiel won’t disappoint. Strapping, juicy, _hot..._ Dean wants all that.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Castiel tilts his head and the smile fades away from Dean’s lips.

No, he’s not joking. He feels his cheeks burn the way Castiel delivers his words so heavy with meaning and lust. 

Dean stands up and Castiel copies his movement.

They forget the world around them when their eyes meet, and then Castiel is beside him, firm hand on Dean’s side as he leads him to the direction of the glass doors, opposite another five-star hotel whose name Dean doesn't bother getting. Castiel’s fingers possessively dig around his hipbone when he stirs him, to the elevator after checking in. At least Castiel used his real name, Dean notes. What he didn’t expect was Castiel leading him to the narrow hallway of the private elevators leading to king suites—Dean knows—he fucking knows everything about hotels. But it all goes away when the elevator opens and Castiel pulls him inside, doesn’t wait for the door to close when he crashes his lips on Dean’s half-open mouth.

He should be angry, but he really isn't. Castiel's lips against his are... _perfect._

One step back and Dean’s back presses on the elevator wall, kissing back fiercely, arrogantly the guy who happens to be a little smaller in height but doesn’t stop him from manhandling Dean. and his power is incredible, Dean thinks his cock can't get any harder. Dean feels the hunger the way Castiel sucks his tongue, the way with their bodies press chest to chest, hips to hips and Dean welcomes the lust. Welcomes the knee sliding between his legs as their mouth explores each other. 

Never mind security cameras, Dean would get a copy of this because he’s sure it’s going to be some one-night stand and he’s fucking going to enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for turning another page!


	2. Do Not Disturb

Above their ragged breaths, Dean hears the door of the suite close and automatically thinks desperately of DND when Castiel drags him in there. Dean’s had experience with people leaving the door unlocked even when they know the attendants are about to collect their shit just to make them watch some exhibitions which were frankly not Dean's thing.

Dean knows there are people like that—and he knows why. The exhilarating feeling of knowing you can be discovered anytime, the excitement, and possession. The greed and pride to show off while sharing something intimate. He understands that with some hot guy desperate to make him succumb. 

Castiel doesn't seem to care when he pulls Dean, lips burying to Dean's open ones. Heat sparks in his body and it has everything to do with the sexy object currently trying to get in his pants. Castiel is aggressive, very much lost as he kisses Dean hard and raw. Dean's brain is muddled, he can only feel and what he feels makes him moan.

"C-Cas..." going all the way finishing the name isn't as hot. _"Cas."_

_Yes, that's it. He's own personal fuck name._

Castiel lifts heavy eyes on him before taking his mouth again, this time, slipping a tongue in, exploding with tastes of wine, and more. Dean gasps when Castiel bites his bottom lip, he turns his head away, letting Castiel’s wet mouth trail down his neck, sending heat on his skin, making his legs shake. He hastily steals a look at the doorknobs and sees the DND when it should be outside warning people. He wants to push Castiel off, tell him to lock the door—but his very hot kisser busily sucks his breath away, hands roaming his body trying to reach every part of him.

"Cas... the door..." Dean curses when hands slip inside the back of his pants.

"Don't move," Castiel warns, kneading Dean's ass, holding him with their bodies pressing, thigh to thigh, chest to chest while he turns Dean on the wall, trapping him over a waist-high cabinet where Dean plants his hands. "Get undressed."

Jesus, Dean doesn't remember ever being so obedient as he shimmies out of his pants boxers and shirt. Castiel does the same behind him and with their clothes discarded on the floor, Castiel is back against him again, pressing his hot rod between Dean's ample ass. The feel of the weight and length is enough to drive him mad.

"Fuck," Dean's chin hit his chest as Castiel brazenly rubs his leaking cock between his ass. Dean tries to reach behind him, but all he can do is touch Castie's thigh. _Fuck. He wants him._

"I've been hard since I saw you, I wanted to fuck you, get you to be mine," Castiel growls. Dean bites his lips to avoid screaming. Castiel easily slips both hands around his body, palming every corner and bump, grabbing his hard erection and jacking him to abandon. Still, Dean holds his cries. "Don't hold it, I want to hear your voice, Dean,"

His voice is magnificent and Dean thinks he'll come if this guy said so. He gasps when Castiel thumbs the slit of his cock, then rubs him again in earnest while dragging his length behind Dean too. The sensations bring in a wave of ecstasy and electrical charges exploding in his brain. Castiel doesn't stop kissing every part of his skin as he pulls Dean a little back, a hand still on Dean's cock and one supporting Dean's chest. That hot mouth on his nape should be on his glory hole but Dean is too distracted to say so. Everywhere its trails is a fire burning his insides, arousal heating his own trapped cock setting his body aflame. Each stroke gets him on edge. Toes curling he calls Castiel to take him. They haven't seen the bed but the floor will do. Fuck DND, he needs Castiel to know.

Dean throws his head back when he orgasm seizes him from the power strokes, except Castiel stops. Protest starts to erupt, only, Castiel flips him and the man is invading every corner of his lips again while his hands press down Dean's chest to tweak on his hard buds. Dean curses but he doesn't get left behind. He quickly grabs Castiel's erection and pumps him too, eyes locking with the blue when Castiel pulls up to look at him.

Dark, aroused, and with cock erect because of him. Dean can come right there.

"I've been thinking how your lips would look good in my cock, Dean," Castiel whispers. Dean's legs shake at the dirty words. He’s hot. His body is in absorb in a fiery flame that the only thing left to do is to kneel.

"What do you want?" he licks his lips, eyes turning from Castiel to Castiel's cock. He tells himself he can do anything for the guy with the blue eyes, tell himself this will be their last encounter anyway. He lazily strokes Castiel again.

Castiel’s blue eyes remained glinting dark with lust as he stares back at Dean.

"Suck me," his voice is wrecked. Dean doesn't need to be told twice as he slides down the floor in a kneeling position, cocks his head up to see Castiel is watching him, and with almost all the lust living in his body, he takes Castiel's cock in his mouth. Dean overestimated his ability because Castiel is huge. His cock hits the back of his throat hard and he chokes for a moment. He sees Castiel smiling at his overexcitement and being cocky like that, Dean tries again, this time with the goal to make the man pay. He doesn’t beat around the bush. Both hands sliding on Castiel’s thighs again to hold tight, Castiel’s hand guiding his cock in Dean’s mouth, he swallows Castiel whole. 

He hears Castiel curse and he likes the deep growl he makes every time Dean bobs his head. He massages Dean’s scalp as he thrusts deep inside Dean’s mouth. He’s thick inside Dean when he experiments how much he can take before pulling out. The tip of Castiel’s cock is red foreskin stretched with bulging veins taut. Dean kisses the head, sucking hard making Castiel shut his eyes with jaws clenched. Dean doesn’t even know if he can take him, no one in comparison can compare to what’s in front of him and it ignites his desire even more.

It’s heavy inside his mouth, lips stretching around the length. Castiel stares at him, eyes heavy-lidded. Dean stares back and they don’t move like Castiel is burning him in his memory. He better because Dean knows they won’t be seeing each other again. Hunger in his eyes, Castiel slides a finger to caress Dean’s jaw. They don’t move, just Castiel touching Dean’s cheeks, pressing down a little and watches as Dean chokes.

This is the only time Dean really craved a man's cock. Castiel's length is heavy and filling his mouth, stretching and burning the corner of his lips as he bobs his head up and down. Castiel cards left hand to Dean's hair and in the rhythm of Dean's movement, Castiel fucks into Dean's mouth, slowly at first, then desperate and urgent.

Dean stops moving and lets Castiel thrust in him. Castiel's silky cock is to dream for, it's smooth and glazed with cum and Dean's spit and it fucks his throat. Dean digs his fingers on Castiel's thighs. Let’s Castiel enjoy the heat of his mouth until the man is pulling him up roughly and kissing him soundly. If Dean is dreaming, he'd be very wet right now. He wonders if Cas is the god of Erection. Must be related to eros at least.

“I want inside you,” Castiel breathes above him and it hits Dean hard. He gasps at Castiel’s first two thrusts. He fucks in Dean’s mouth without reservation and Dean tightens his hold at the back of Castiel’s thighs. He doesn’t stop him, he lets Castiel chase his orgasm in his mouth until it built up because Dean can take him—he will take Castiel’s come anytime— Castiel inhales sharply. Dean brought his game on the table. Sucking Castiel, he reaches to fondle his balls. And that moment it feels right to be kneeling there, taking Castiel. It’s a pleasure Dean will do again if he can, if he’s given another chance. Thinking that he doesn’t, he sucks Castiel’s cock like his life depends on it.

“Fuck—Dean—I—get up here,” Castiel’s face is flushed as pulls Dean to his feet and catches his lips into another bruising kiss. Dean aches to be touched and lets out a wild moan when Castiel touches him again. Growling at Dean’s voice, Castiel thrusts him back on the top of the cabinet then ducks down to his discarded pants. Dean watches as Castiel pulls out a lubricant and condom before standing back between Dean’s legs, his eyes glinting.

Dean’s heart skips another beat and he spreads his legs wider without asking. He wants Castiel to fuck him. Castiel smiles and it’s something bordering to amusement and sadism. Dean doesn’t care. He hears the packets getting ripped and his anticipation heightens. He whimpers at the cold touch of gel on his ass while Castiel leans down to press a kiss on his flushed cheek.

“You're so tight, Dean... " Castiel suddenly whispers on his ear. Dean can’t answer—eyes filled with tears at the knuckle opening his tight ass. Oh, he will make Castiel remember this. He holds Castiel’s eyes and there’s something in there both tender and heated. Sparkling like…

Dean pulls away not wanting to label any of those meaning because of course, Castiel will love to fuck him. Will remember it for a lifetime. A second finger digs in and Dean’s body shivers but Castiel’s broad body is holding him down. His toes curl as he spreads them wider. Castiel nibbles on his bottom lip suck him dry.

The third finger stretches him and it stings. 

“You’re so tight… is this your first—?”

“W-hat— _no!”_ Dean groans clawing Castiel’s shoulder for support, legs getting numb uselessly on his sides. He has no plan telling the hot guy he hasn’t been laid in months—not after the celebratory casual fucking after he landed his job. But he’s never had it as hard and vigorous like this. Those blue eyes bring out something primal in him, something less dominant, yet eager…very eager. Castiel finds his magic spot and Dean’s breath hitches. He just wants Castiel’s cock inside him, between his legs, fucking inside him in abandon. He wants that.

“I like you… so sensitive…” his voice vibrating on Dean’s throat hoarsely, nipping on Dean’s ear, talking so casually with fingers deep inside Dean.

“Quit playin!” Dean’s grits and dismays hits him. 

“Dean.” It’s heavy and meaningful. Castiel coats his length only eyes on Dean.

Dean freezes as Castiel takes his right leg on his shoulder, his dark eyes only on Dean’s heated face. Lolling nerves crash on his chest. He can feel the head of Castiel’s cock ghosting his entrance. Castiel trails his fingers on Dean’s raised leg, sending shivers on his spine. He cradles his large cock to the pucker of Dean’s entrance and then there it is. His eyes. Castiel is going to fuck him slowly, Dean can tell. He has the air of patience in the crown of his dominant brow, the fierce look behind his eyes that tells Dean how much he will make him scream. 

“Dean.”

“What?” Dean swallows at the intensity of his gaze.

“Don’t hold out your voice. I want to hear you call my name.”

Dean shuts his eyes, feeling the smooth hands rub his body, relentless of his sensitive spot. 

“Dean.” His voice lowers a little deeper. Dean holds his breath. Their foreheads touch. Castiel kisses his lips. _“Dean.”_

Dean’s body tenses. The way Castiel said his name—

_“Dean—”_

He sinks deep inside Dean all the way up.

_Shit_

Dean can feel him inch by inch, the burn of friction on Dean’s skin eased by the lube leaving them both breathless. Castiel says litany of curses. Dean jerks his head backward thoroughly pierced. His fingers clutch tight on Castiel’s arms when Castiel bottoms out inside him. There’s a pause, Castiel breathes hard on his neck, with Dean’s fingers bruising Castiel’s back.

Then slowly, Castiel pulls out and slowly splits Dean again. They both cry in pleasure when Castiel pulls out before thrusting back with vigor this time. Dean braces himself on Castiel’s shoulder, mouth open, his eyes rolling back as the pace begins to increase and Castiel fucks him in abandon, without restraints, pounding inside Dean’s magic spot.

 _It’s really good!_

“Dean,” Castiel whispers on his ears as he fucks him so good.

“D-don’t…” Dean whimpers, his body rocking on the creaking cabinet. His hard length throbs on his stomach where Castiel’s fingers are firmly planted by his chest. Dean’s leg dangles on Castiel’s shoulder like a lost limb, allowing Castiel to pound even deeper inside where Dean’s thighs begin to quiver. He gets lost in the sensation of Castiel’s cock he’s gasping by the time the wave of pleasure begins to build.

“Cas!” Dean shouts, wrecked when Castiel grabs his cock and pumps at the same rhythm of slamming inside Dean. Castiel bites his shoulder as he thrusts faster forward. Dean’s body seizes— _fuck—_

“C-Cas… _I’m close…”_

 _“Don’t…”_ Castiel murmurs, gripping the base of Dean’s cock as he chases his orgasm. “Hang on…” he inhales and sinks even deeper at his last thrust. Dean’s whole face shuts, his face burns with Castiel’s relentless hand jerking his cock so hard he thought he might combust.

 _“Fuck.”_ Castiel’s voice trembles, his swelling cock wrapped in Dean’s heat.

Dean clenches. Castiel gasps, voice breaking to something Dean found arousing. Grabbing Dean’s hips, he slams back into him. Dean is lost in the sound of Castiel ramming into him and then—

_“Dean.”_

Dean’s mind blanks his blood boiling, making him feverish. His orgasm catches and fireworks play in his eyes. Dean forgets the world—his mind goes blank, body afloat, his cock trapped now between their bodies as Castiel jolts one last thrust. He holds Dean’s cock in his steady hand, catching his breath while Dean tries to breathe but Castiel is crowding him, cock warming up inside Dean until it softens and slips out from Dean.

They catch each other’s eyes in the haze and in the hype of raw feelings, Castiel kisses Dean unhurriedly, his eyes still glazed and wanting.

“Dean.” He says, voice rough. Dean wants to keep him. “ _Be mine_.” 

_Crap._

Dean gets lost in the blue eyes but doesn’t answer. Is this dude serious? Dean blinks at him blankly but Castiel is already helping Dean to sit right up. Dean hisses at the pain making Castiel smile. Dean was about to rebuff him when Castiel slides his arms around him and sweeps him off his feet like a June bride. 

“H-hey!” Dean says in embarrassment because he’s inches taller than then man—thought judging by their cock, he wouldn’t be _too arrogant)_. Castiel ignores him and Dean can’t believe the strength of the man who carried him to the bedroom and laid him gently down. Dean quickly pushes on his elbow, his heart racing because they’re on the bed and Jesus—what happened out there probably wasn’t even half what Castiel is capable of. He waits in expectation. Castiel walks the room in his birthday suit casually with Dean following his elegant movement. He follows Castiel with his eyes until he disappears outside the living room again, leaving Dean breathless. His mind is still in pieces after good fucking like Castiel knew what he was doing, able to hit all of Dean’s sensitive spots as if he knows Dean’s body. Like he knows Dean wants him badly.

He snaps in attention when Castiel returns carrying a glass of water, still naked. Dean blushes at the sight but doesn’t pull away. He’s going to remember Castiel this way. Why can’t he just try and know the guy?

No good. Finding a guy like that in a French restaurant could mean the man, like Michael, is a top executive of some big company or some rich billionaire only looking for a one night. This is that night. He can’t be too hopeful. He’s just Dean who needs the attention of a lover when he gets home from work. Not someone who disappears on a phone call.

 _Lover?_ What a silly thought.

“Do you want any midnight snack for later? I can call for room service.” Castiel hands Dean the glass. 

“I’m good… thanks…” Dean mumbles, taking the glass and drinks the lump in his throat. Castiel sits on the edge of the bed, just staring at Dean. He waits.

Dean lowers the glass down his lap and stares back. The blue eyes don’t blink, won’t gaze away. Suddenly, the words echo in Dean’s brain.

_Be mine._

“T-thanks.” His throat dries again and he ducks to the side table where he puts the glass in. He feels a heavy hand press on his thighs and when he looks back, there is Castiel with his blue eyes heavy on him, arousal sitting behind the intense gaze as he crawls on top of Dean. He is ready to pounce with the graceful movement of his ripped body, his sexy hair tousled everywhere and his lips… Dean remembers how hot, how fiery and passionate Castiel’s mouth works. Dean feels weak when he presses back on the bed, Castiel on top of him, hungry and wanting.s

“Cas…” Dean tenses when Castiel takes both of his hands and pin it on either side of his head. Castiel straddles him and Dean feels their soft cocks pressing side to side, his legs trapped under Castiel’s weight. His breath hitches but Castiel won’t let him look away. Their eyes make love. Dammit, Dean won’t ever know how to look at Castiel without fucking himself from the memory.

“You’re like a tamarind candy,” Castiel says in a sexy voice.

Dean gapes.

“W-what?”

“A very sweet… bitter candy I’d like to put in my pocket.”

Dean can’t help the smile that breaks on his lips. Castiel speaks in the same gravelly voice and straight face—and trying to—what? Moon Dean?

“Is this how you sweet-talk anyone who gets in your pants?” Dean actually snickers. It’s some line he hadn’t used before and being the guy with all the pickup lines, he doesn’t know why it’s making him giggle. 

“It is working after all.” Castiel tilts his head—Dean doesn’t know how to describe it. What even is it that’s enough to make his heart race and itched to be closer to—kiss—

“You tested it out on someone then?” there’s a prickle on his chest Dean ignores.

Castiel shakes his head, still deadpan.

"There's no other _one,"_ Castiel assures him, and Dean wonders if he really sounded that jealous over someone he doesn't even know.

Somewhere in his slumber, he feels the bed dip and the heat beside him disappears. Dean clacks his teeth and reaches for the other man on the bed towards Cas. They’ve done five rounds in four hours and it’s impossible to forget the name no embedded on his skull. His palm finds space on the bed but he hears the shower turn on. Frowning, he looks at the wall clock to find it’s only four in the morning… and Cas is taking a shower?

Dean dreams of following Castiel in the shower, he thought he did. It drags on until that nice dream where someone brushes his hair and kisses his lips deep but it’s gone before he can hold on to it.

Dean jerks awake alone on the bed and with morning wood. Dean blinks for a moment trying to recall last night because this wasn’t his first time waking up in someone else’s room. Still, he wriggles from the blankets feeling rejuvenated for reasons that included someone from last night fucking him senseless. Castiel’s name pops up in his head and it makes him smile. He doesn’t find Cas in the room when he sits up though, yawning, he saw the clock strike seven. Out of habit, a sensation of wanting to bolt up and hurry to work seizes him.

Then he calms down because it’s Saturday. 

Instead, he fumbles out of bed and heads straight for the shower. He wonders where Castiel is for a moment. Probably outside with a prepared breakfast for Dean? Maybe on the balcony? He’s already naked anyway and he doesn’t want to appear too easy so he showers and fixes himself. Nothing better than appearing refreshed in front of someone you want to impress and Castiel’s one of those men Dean intends to get.

Because despite the fear of getting left behind, on their third orgasm together with Castiel looking at him tenderly like he’s the best thing that happened on earth for him, Dean can’t help raising his hope. Maybe Castiel had other plans.

_Be mine._

He pulls the white bathrobe on after drying and carefully heads out. It’s too early but he wouldn’t mind Castiel pinning him on the wall again. He exits the room to find the living room empty.

That’s weird. 

He checks the balcony and found it empty too.

Dean walks back to the living room blankly, trying to assess what just happened. He wants to shake off the feeling that Castiel was already gone and it shouldn’t bother him because this was exactly what he was planning last night too. To bolt up and disappear the moment the dream ended. So, what happened? What changed his mind?

_Be mine._

Dean dials the customer service center, he knows how these things work, dammit. A friendly voice Dean would give a ten for the pleasant roll in his ears

_“How may I help you?”_

“Hey, uh… you know the number of the room, right?”

_“Yes, sir you are in a King suite 401 with check-in time of 9:55 last night—”_

“Yeah, I remember but um… where’s Castiel Novak?” he’s sure it’s the name he saw on Castiel’s card too.

_“Mr. Novak has checked out the premises exactly at 4:00 in the morning—”_

That’s all Dean needed to hear as he slams the receiver down and makes his way to the door looking for his clothes. Curses flew from his mouth, his face flush in anger and embarrassment for being the one left behind—

He bangs the bedroom door open and sure enough, it’s there on the foot of the bed under the blanket Dean casually threw when he got up. Without pausing he snatches his clothes with force, gets on rigidly, and leaves the room without so much as a glance, banging it close with the DND falling on the floor with a thud.

He thinks of Castiel Novak when he hails a cab. He thinks of Castiel Novak and how dare the man raise his hopes up for something special between. He thinks and thinks until he gets home and takes another shower, dumping everything away that reminds him of his one-night stand.

He thinks of how Castiel Novak is an asshole.

He also thinks of how Castiel Novak’s lips make him whimper and he hates him even more.

Dean arrives early Sunday evening at the employee’s locker with an eight-hour shift from 12 in the morning till 8 and with a specific room to be in charge, he needs to make sure everything is in his control. Besides, he needed the distraction from a very depressing weekend. He needed to work now before he plucks all his hair out.

His co-workers greet him with big news. At least those who were there during their breaks that happened to have sassy Charlie smirk at him like she knows something he doesn’t.

“Mr. Milton kicked him out of the building?” Dean gawks at Garth, “How—?” his eyes fall on Charlie waving at him from the coffee maker, “You told him—?”

Charlie feigns innocence, “Hey, the guy was making a scene outside the reception hall, sugar pants, I didn’t lure him there. He couldn’t find you in any floor and went in the reception to Ana who called Bobby and Chuck and it was getting warm when Mr. Milton came. Chuck explained to him and we all got the impression Mr. Milton is pro-employees the way he stared the guy down.”

“He talked about how all his employees are the best, you being one of them and raised the occasion of going after you, it got uncomfortable for our guest, let’s say.” Garth nods, “Or that’s what I heard from Ana...anyway, he gave the man a short notice to pack up, banned him from the premises forever.”

Dean stares from one face to another. “That’s…”

“Of course, we’re not thinking it’s all because of your hot pants,” Charlie says, “There’s a full disclosure between the guest and Mr. Milton in his office and he’s out of the building just like that.” She snaps her fingers.

Dean’s head reels. To say he was relieved that his boss took the matters to his hands, he was more embarrassed and it showed. He can take care of his battle, he wants to tell them that, and he’s not dating the guy, he wants to tell that to Charlie’s face too. The way she’s looking at him, the way she acts like _she knows there’s something between him and his boss._

Which reminded him how he was planning to murder Charlie today. Bobby enters the room and reminds every one of the times— Charlie’s lucky day. Dean quickly changes his clothes and nods at Bobby once.

“Yeah, the asshole’s out of 6th floor, Dean,” Bobby repeats while Dean tucks the hem of his buttoned shirt inside his black belt.

“I heard. You and Chuck and then Mr. Milton kicked him out, how’s that for the standard procedure?”

“The procedure happened in a closed-door meeting as it should. Mr. Milton was just scaring the guy for making a scene. Don’t you feel lucky our CEO is a decent guy who appreciates all his employees? Got nothing but praises for you that’d make your ears go red, Bambi.”

“Right...” Dean licks his lips. He doesn’t doubt Michael Milton’s decency—by far the most eloquent guy he’s met. Very polite and uh… Dean doesn’t know how to break it to Bobby how he nearly became part of another closed-off meeting for dating his boss. Nah, he’s not gonna tell Bobby that. 

“So uh…I don’t have to thank the boss, right?” Dean asks making sure everything from his sleek hair to his shining Italian shoes is perfect.

“No, idjit. It’s part of his job too. But if you see him, maybe bow a bit, lick his shoes…”

“Haha…”

Dean’s fully prepared for that ring from room 707 on Midnight. It was all planned out, from the valet who will raise the first alarm to the receptionist who spies every check ins to the security team watching every entrance. The whole building is armed for the famed Blue-Eyed-Demon.

He waited five days and nothing.

Naomi, the General Manager doesn’t give other orders, and Chuck, their Resident Manager, told everyone to remain ready because it’s this habit of appearing and disappearing mysteriously without anyone knowing that has made the Blue-eyed-demon so mysterious.

Dean doesn’t know why the hype is like this. He tried asking for a photograph but no one could provide him with one. All they Jody can give him is the man in what looked like a dirty trench coat walking in the lobby wearing visors. 

If they actually hadn’t pointed him, Dean wouldn’t have noticed at all—then had to double back at the dirty trench coat—he asked anyone listening if the CEO’s brother was an accountant. No one can clarify what the man does so Dean settles on a terrible bank accountant.

The gushing doesn’t stop about the man but aside from the incriminating trench coat no sign of the mysterious blue-eyed hottie ever appeared. If Garth didn’t testify how stunning the mysterious guy was, Dean would never believe all the attention given to a phantom. And no sign of Mr. Milton for Dean to thank either. For a man who tried to date him, Michael Milton effectively seems someone who can move on.

“You must’ve sucked right from the start,” Charlie says in the employee’s entrance when Dean drops by around 8 in the evening. It’s his day off but he hears from Charlie that Mr. Milton has arrived around 6 and has been in his office the entire day. Dean actually was planning to make the meeting less formal by dropping in during his lockout. Not that he was making any effort or anything—he also needed to return the shirt he borrowed from Garth.

Then Charlie happens. 

“Shut up, Charlie.” Because Dean is such an eloquent person too. “How’d you know I was here?” they walk side by side in the corridor.

“Charlie just dropped from the lounge room and mentions you’re around hunting for the boss. So, you ever gonna tell me what happened that night? You’ve been kind of a bitch whenever I ask—”

“I didn’t think I’d hurt your feelings.”

“Oh, you do things to me you’d never imagine.”

“Shut up. I’m not here to be all frisky with him, alright? Gotta return Garth’s clothes.” He raises the bundle which Charlie rolls her eyes at.

“Any excuse, give that here.”

“So, the other blue-eyed still hasn’t shown himself?”

“Still as aloof as ever. Makes me think the guy’s doing dark stuff. But you know what’s even surprising? They won’t tell me his name in the accounting office, even sassy Charlie admitted Naomi told them personally for the discretion of giving personal information.”

“You’re bordering to stalker now, you that into this guy?”

“Hey, he’s pretty, I’m hot. I think we can make the couch shake up a bit. And if you’re gonna be on the seventh floor—”

“Nope. I can’t snoop around the guy no matter how pretty he is. I still have an appointment in the Human Resources after my shift come Monday. Rowena said I still gotta talk about 606 at some point. She’s just not around when I’m here, I wonder why.”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Tell me about it, I’ve had about six meetings with her last month.” Dean shoots her an incredulous look.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Funny.” They stop in front of an elevator, “You know the code heading to the executive floor?” Charlie asks him.

Dean shakes his head. Only Naomi and the supervisors like Chuck, Bobby, and the Concierge like Hester know the exact code leading to that Department. Dean has seen them coding numerous times, others bothering with the swipe of keycards but that’s just it, he doesn’t have anything.

“I was hoping Bobby…”

Charlie raises an eyebrow. “Well, so much for trusting your luck. And here I was getting excited for nothing. Whatever, I got 6 seconds before I’m late, so…toodles. If I see Naomi, I’ll definitely ask her cause she loves my gut.” 

“Do that for me, please.”

Dean steps right back staring at the elevator wondering if he should wait for Michael or call his secretary. Then again, Michael should have done that if he wanted to meet Dean. Then again, too, Dean isn't interested. He's just wondering why he's so intent thinking about his boss whenn the elevator pops open and he sees two guys—one practically hanging off the other awkwardly, drunk it seemed. Dean would have left them alone if he didn’t see the sunglasses worn by the guy with lolling head on the shoulder of his friend.

Dean didn’t plan to get involved. It’s common to find two guys hanging off each other in the elevator and they’ve been trained to ignore that too or give a verbal warning if it was making other guests uncomfortable. He doesn’t see any way out except wait for the elevator to close when the guy in the black V-neck holding up his drunk friend wearing a familiar trench coat and sunglasses— _sunglasses at night inside a hotel, what a douchebag—_ looks up at him in relief.

“A little help here?”

Dean hears the guest’s distinct British accent. He was clocked out of work and didn’t have to do it, but his body automatically moves forward to reach them out. He quickly takes the trench coat guy’s other arm and wound it around his shoulder. The man’s head lolls on his shoulder, knocking his jaw when the v-neck guest drops the whole weight against Dean’s body.

“Hey—” Dean grunts when his nose impacts on the dark mass of hair tickling his nostrils at the familiar shampoo. 

“Sorry, mate.” the strange British man taps on the floor and sighs, “I’ve been carrying him from the studio, he’s not exactly light for me either.” He gestures to his shoulder and cracks a stiff bone, then looks up with manic light blue eyes glinting at Dean. “But it looks like you got him.”

“Does it look like that?” Dean retorts.

Using his other hand to grab a handful of the trench coat, he glares at the British man because he’s not in uniform and it’s possible it’s the last time they’ll see each other unless he’s in charge of their floor which is impossible. He is indefinitely assigned to 707 so he doesn’t count on it very much. The British guest coolly stares at him as he leans on the wall, eyes then falling on his friend and pressing his lips together looking troubled.

Dean didn’t ask. He’s not going to get involved. Instead, he pulls the man on his arm closer, a hand sliding behind his waist. He tries to take a look at the guy with the douche sunglasses, but he can only make out the strong sharp nose, the fully and full outline of high cheekbones. It’s strange that it looks familiar to him from a side view but he notices the British guy now back at staring at him in amusement. Dean wasn’t really keen to ask but the light shallow breathes hot on his right ear is distracting.

“Is he… is he sleeping?” he doesn’t smell any liquor on the guy but feel his soft breathing. What man would get so tired too much to be unable to walk on his own? It struck Dean that he’s staring too intently at the familiar stubble.

“Handsome, isn’t he? But he won’t wake up till kingdom come, I’m afraid. We just finished a big project since he returned from Okinawa and I doubt he’s ever had a good sleep for days…He doesn’t eat either, if you get my point. Just coffee. Pure black.”

“What is he, an alien?” the dude looks as if his strings have been snapped completely. The Brit guy laughs. 

“You can say that. I didn’t even bother for any group celebration, we all know he’s just going to sleep through it anyway,”

“I bet your Christmas gifts are all travel pillows and neck pillows, huh?”

Another burst of laughter followed by the ding of the elevator. The floor is familiar—all floors are the same. Except the British man walks out without any attempt lend a hand whatsoever, leaving a mildly miffed Dean to drag the sleeping guy on his arms along the corridor on the left-wing where saw the friend standing, typing the electronic passcodes. He didn’t even wait for Dean when he opens the heavy door and steps right in. 

Grunting, Dean lifts the guy a little higher and drags him inside. He’s been inside so many rooms to recognize the king suite room easily. One of their luxurious rooms in the hotel only celebrities and famous people actually afford. 

Not bothering to wonder how two easy-going men are able to afford the suite, Dean automatically brings the dead body to the bedroom. The other guy had disappeared somewhere. He knows these rooms like the back of his hand—identifies the arrangement of tables, chairs, and couches, and even the color of the drapes to know that he is on the seventh floor. 

He enters the separate bedroom and almost sighs when he sees the bed. 

“Come on, buddy. Can’t carry you forever.”

He heaves sunglasses guy on the bed and in one haul, drops him down. Only— he underestimated Mr. Douche Sunglass’ arms hooked around his shoulder still gripping tight— he falls down. He nearly smashed right on the guy’s face but got his arms right on time to support his weight.

Gritting his teeth, he stumbles to get up. The bed is just too squiggly to get a proper balance. He attempts again but then hears a soft groan. Dean freezes. He just dropped straight on top the guy with half their bodies pressed and now the dudes got his eyes open and staring at him with—

Dean gasps. 

The sunglasses have fallen on the man’s neck and there, Dean is looking straight at something raw and familiar—the kind of blue eyes he remembers looking through his soul as he thrust deep inside Dean. The kind of blue that haunted him in his every sleep for a week—

The man is also staring at him and Dean knows he’s been recognized. He puts things together—King suites, blue eyes, hot front and back—and he’s staring at him again. The same beautiful guy in his steamy dreams, so beautiful he doesn’t even know where to begin looking. The nose, the jaw, the symmetrical cheekbones, the heat of his mouth sucking Dean— but it’s the starlight eyes that got him breathing hard. He’s been drugged—mesmerize. It’s like all the nerves in his body have agreed to stop functioning at once.

It’s him. It’s Cas.

“That’s not right.” Castiel grumbles in his deep voice sending electric shock all over Dean’s body as the blue eyes blink slowly. “Make up your mind of what shade of green you want to be. You confuse me as ever, Dean.”

Heat pools inside Dean’s stomach. It’s been a week and he remembers. Castiel remembers but then…Dean watches the eyes slowly droop back to sleep.

[ ](https://www.deviantart.com/uddelhexe)

“Hey,”

Dean glances over his shoulder to find the British guy standing by the door watching him with narrowed eyes with a wine glass on his hand. Dean is struck at how he must’ve looked pining down a sleeping Castiel on the bed so he scrambles to get up. 

“Sorry, he was heavy.” He says while pressing his shirt quickly trying to look not guilty. He hoped his face doesn’t give him away because the way he remembers Castiel say his name is fucking his body right now.

The British guy quirks his eyebrows but he is eyeing Dean very carefully. Dean knows that critical look, have survived plenty of that from Hester and Naomi during training alone. He wants to get out the door but the man is blocking his way. He can’t help it too that his eyes wander back to Castiel making sure it’s really him. Of course, it’s Castiel. No one has made Dean reach a boiling point by just hearing his own name like Castiel can.

Balthazar is staring at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. You are…?”

Dean stiffens.

“Look, man, I already helped you out, the least you can do is thank me right?” There’s a pause. The guy gives a courteous bow.

“Of course, never mind, thanks for bringing him up. And put the signup, won’t you?”

Dean frowns. Sign? Is this guy going to stay with Castiel? Dean blinks at the man then to Castiel fast asleep on the bed looking as vulnerable as a baby wrapped in businessman’s coat. Dean hesitates a little. What does he do?

Castiel left him first. This is none of his business. Dean marches stiffly towards the doorway. He closes the door and puts up the sign he got at the back of the door that says _Do Not Disturb._

It took him a while to realize he had been standing outside the door staring at the room number for a long time. Blinking to himself he shakes his head but the image of the blue eyes burned in his mind. Those are the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen in his whole life. Then something clicked in his useless brain.

 _Handsome? Blue-eyed? 7_ _th_ _floor?_

Dean lifts his head and sees the room number.

_707._

_Fuck._


	3. Blue Eyes

It’s either he sticks to being professional or he fucks himself over because he’s done.

Dean appears at work Sunday evening with a chip on his shoulder and with sleep eluding him the entire night even with the comfort of his favorite pie. The weekend passed like another nightmare where he overthinks of the things that happened between him and Castiel and the things that can happen now with Castiel and his boyfriend, that hot British co-worker or whoever he is, and how he Dean fits in the picture.

Well, of course, Dean knows he is hot and handsome too, but he can't compare to that suave British accent—n _ot that there’s a competition,_ Dean doesn’t care. He is not jealous! He and Castiel are nothing more than a one-night stand— and Castiel practically left him after fucking with him, if that doesn't scream of meaning...

At present, their relationship is strictly professional, a guest and his attendant, although the fact that Dean is in charge of Castiel’s room service is downright scary to be a coincidence. Dean doesn’t believe in fate and coincidence doesn’t happen _coincidentally_. He wanted to tell Charlie at some point, but thinking he's fucked one of the hottest guests in the house. It still unnerves him. What would Bobby say? But hey, that one-night stand happened off duty. Will the management hold him accountable for what happens next? Like, how many room service staff have their girlfriends or boyfriends play a role, rent a room and just fuck?

Dean swallows hard. He's thinking Castiel would fuck him again. Hoping those lips finds him again, that he can run his tongue over Castiel's nakedness and just... _shit._

He swallows hard as he steps in the narrowed employee corridor from the back door. Being professional is easy. You just have to mute your inner grumblings and smile and attend to people’s needs because that’s the job. He can complain and bitch about Castiel anytime he wants in his personal time. He wonders if he can. Because despite being an asshole for leaving Dean—when he was also planning the same thing— Castiel has never done him any harm. In fact, the guy gave him one hell of a night on the bed Dean will never forget.

Dean sighs. If Castiel can cause him this much overthinking after a one night of the hot, steamy, passionate night. what more?

Is he kidding? There will be no more!

_Be mine._

Dean enters the locker room smiling brightly and greeting people as he throws his locker room open. He quickly changes and quells the urgency to ask if 707 was occupied. The last time he remembers it was, but it doesn’t mean Castiel will stay there. It’s not how he rolls from all the rumor Dean has heard.

He remembers the blue eyes gazing at him from the bed, how Castiel just naturally reached out and spoke to him about his eyes… how the way Cas says his name is sex itself. Dean grumbles and shakes his head. He steps out of torpor back in the lounge room before he burns himself from reminiscing. It’s already past midnight and he made himself available for any call from 707. The clock hits one o'clock. Nothing.

He waits anxiously. He knows it will come sooner.

Waiting can kill... anyone died waiting? Because Dean sure is... it occurred to him if Castiel even remembered. Occurred to him if the British guy is there again and if he and Castiel are up there behind closed doors. Dean bows palm his face and bows his head with his heart hollow.

It’s six o'clock in the morning when the first sign of life connects the kitchen staff to room 707 requesting a meal for two. Dean’s heart sinks. So Castiel isn’t alone in the room. Monster jealousy roars. Dean kicks it down.

He takes the pushcart from the waiting room upon completion and heads his way to the seventh floor. The large elevator strictly for staff used and cart delivery saved him the trouble of meeting anyone. It’s the first time Dean is out in the morning light after the change of his shift and the last thing he needed is his messy photographer whose shadow he hasn’t seen in two weeks.

But Dean is only distracting himself. He is much aware when the elevator opens, but he doesn’t move. In instant he remembers why he couldn’t sleep for a week; he remembers why he always dreams of Castiel trapping him in that stupid cabinet and bends him on the bed. Castiel lips hot on his. Dean’s body remembers him inch by inch, skin to skin, Castiel buried inside him. Dean looks away, his face burning.

_Damn his effect... like a fire catching fire..._

Clenching his jaw, he makes sure to wipe any trace of doubt in his face as he pushes the cart to 707. Of course, he knows by hotel standard he should have been there ten minutes earlier. Dean doesn’t berate himself for the loss of time. He’s only human and Castiel the famed Blue-eyed-demon who left him can wait. He is becoming unprofessional by the second and he hates it.

Someone, he knows exactly why they would label Castiel as such with domineering eyes that seem to believe it can get whatever it wants and expect people to comply. He gets that. Castiel gave him that impression too if only Dean was actually looking for it instead of soaking himself in Castiel’s hot body.

Who knows, maybe Castiel won’t even recognize him without the suit.

Dean grimaces. There’s no DND on the door. Fucking Castiel and his habit…

For second Dean stalls outside. Finds himself not wanting to get inside. What if he finds Castiel and his hot British boyfriend on the cabinet too?

It would crush his heart.

Heart clenching but deciding to shut off all the noise brought by his messy heart because it was easier, he prepares to knock, mouth opening to call for the service, and waiting for the bomb to explode when the guest elevator rings open. Dean glances up and sees them come on sight walking side by side both blue-eyed and wearing dark suits except that guy with the trench coat wrapped on his arms.

The Milton brothers...?

No wait— _Cas was Novak—?_

But Dean forgets them when he and Castiel’s eyes locked. He sees Castiel’s eyes round, his mouth falls half-open as he pauses while speaking to Dean's boss. It instant Dean remembers everything and his whole body heats up. By the color of Castiel's face, he too remembers.

“Castiel?” Michael’s voice is equally deep and hearing the name confirmed Dean’s reality—that this isn’t one of his wet dreams where one of the brothers is involved. He and Castiel stand there frozen like the world didn’t matter until Cas opens his mouth to call Dean’s name and Dean is sure it’s enough to give him a boner when—

“Dean?” Michael turns to him with a surprising smile. Dean pulls his eyes away from Castiel and turns to his boss who casually approaches him. Then he remembers the same night and Dean thinks he might have a heart attack. He cools it down because Michael Milton does not have the same effect on him. Unlike the guy whose cock enjoyed his mouth.

“Mr. Milton, sir.” He says rather smartly because he has no issues with his boss. Dean should win an award as he smiles wide and flattering. “Good to see you, sir,”

Michael stops on the side of his car with hands in his pockets. He looks at the pushcart then at Dean, his eyes filled with casual interest.

“Oh, so you’re in charge of 707? I don’t doubt it, I’m glad my brother is in your capable hands.”

Dean’s smile is unwavering. _Brother._ He sees Castiel walk closer. Sees the intense gaze behind the blue. Dean avoids his eyes, his heart is already racing. Gripping the push cart’s handle, he focuses on Michael’s steel-blue eyes. At least it’s easier to look people in the eyes when you don’t dream of them naked. Castiel’s eyes burn on him in silence.

“Ah—right, I’d like to thank you for the case on the guest at 606—” Dean begins trying to fill the gap where he doesn’t need to look intentionally at Castiel.

“He was on the wrong, Dean.” Michael says with chin up, eyes narrowing, “We never tolerate sexual harassment from guests, you are protected by mandates and state laws, but then you know all that. Are you okay?”

Michael has never sounded that gentle during their date, but then Dean never really gave the man a chance. In retrospect, Michael never did ask for anything in return just being a good Samaritan, and that for Dean’s dictionary is _awesome._

“Thank you, sir,” he beams with color rising on his face.

“Sexual harassment?” Castiel says suddenly appearing between them, sharp blue eyes rest on Dean. Dean hastily looks down the cart, determined to ignore him.

“It’s confidential,” Michael nods at Dean carefully who nods back, their little secret, but Dean can’t help the small blush creeping on his cheeks because Castiel is staring at him again. His heart should win an award for acceleration too. "Dean is one of my best employees, don't give them a hard time, you understand?"

"What sexual harassment?" Castiel is determined to demand. Dean stares up hard.

"It's private, sir."

There's a pause where their eye contact burns everything around them.

“Well, you keep your secrets to yourself …” Castiel quietly walks back to his door, lazy eyes drop on Dean like ice. “Are you two going to talk about all this in the corridor?” Castiel is already inputting his code number. Their eyes meet at once and it’s not the heat of passion Dean sees there when he turns. Castiel gives him a deep frown.

He doesn’t look too happy.

Michael glances at him then gestures for Dean to get the cart inside.

Dean steps inside with heart pounding in his chest. He gets the cart inside and doesn’t bother closing the door. He will get out of there the next chance he gets. He gets the car near the round table by the windows. The brothers are talking five feet away from him in the living room.

“Come and eat, Castiel.” Michael stands over his younger brother now lying on the couch only in his white long sleeves. "We still need to talk about you taking over from here."

“I’m still tired from my work and there's no taking over happening." Castiel snaps. Dean feels like he is prying on a private conversation so he hurries on putting the right pieces on the table and make a leave.

“But Balthazar told me you didn’t even touch your dinner last night.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“So you say, But you still jump from one country to another. That's the main reason I call you here, I want you to stay put and stop flying from one place to another. You need to settle down Castiel and I think-"

"You think handling the hotel will do me good?"

"I think you should sleep on it,"

“I will if you let me, dammit. How can I rest when you don’t shut up a second?”

Dean accidentally knocks over the wine bucket. Eyes are on him and he murmurs a silent apology. He wants to disappear there and then. Until Michael sighs.

"Well, what better opportunity for you to actually see what we have in this company-"

“You two seem awfully familiar with each other?” Castiel comments more quietly than Dean ever heard him.

"Pardon?" Michael blinks.

"Dean," Castiel cocks his head to Dean who feels every single cell in his body get hit by a lightning bolt. He glances up at the blue-eyed demon and then to the less demonic blue-eyed boss of the company. He doesn't dare speak when he and Michael's eyes connect.

“Well, we did date, didn’t we, Dean?”

Dean flushes.

“Isn’t it awfully cheap to try and date your subordinates?" Casriel drawls with an edge to his tone.

"I know," Michael says without a hitch in his smooth voices he walks over to Dean, "I just couldn't resist myself, I hope you didn't think badly of me for pulling some strings, Dean." his eyes are so... blank. Dean grimaces. Whoever will love this guy must first be able to go through all that layer because, in fact, Michael Milton is not a bad human being at all. Dean smiles.

"It was my pleasure, sir,"

"Michael, you have a meeting, right?" Castiel interrupts scathingly. 

Dean wants to tell him to shut up when their eyes meet. Then a horrifying thought occurs to him. It dawns on him how Castiel _knew_ he was dating Michael at that time. Dean's world crashes. He can see it now, the animosity between the brothers. That Castiel despises his brother for some reason is apparent, that Michael has been tolerant until now, Dean can relate to that, he is also an older brother.

What sickens him to the stomach is the fact that all this time, Castiel knew he _fucked_ his brother's date and still has the gall to look Dean in the eyes. Dean closes his eyes. He was never easily deceived by anyone like this, especially when it comes to a good fuck. But he believed Castiel when he told him he wanted him. No, Castiel only wanted him to get back at his brother. He was used. And for what? To hurt Michael? 

That's when Dean really glares. The flash of surprise in Castiel's face is visible and the man's lips press close. Dean only to catches himself because dammit, Michel is here and this is his brother… Castiel _is his boss_. What does that make him? Does Castiel think now that Dean is Michael's fucking toy? A whore between the brothers? It's sickening and never has Dean ever felt so humiliated. He reels on the spot.

“Oh, yes, I have an appointment. I’m sorry I cannot join you—”

“I feel so bad… for you.” Castiel says drily.

Michael hums then looks at Dean.

“You can eat my share of breakfast, Dean since it looks like you and my brother know each other.”

“We don't.” Dean’s nearly growls but manages to hold his emotion.

“He was asking about you actually,” Michael says with a deadpan expression much like his brother, “Castiel, the guy you were asking about that night, of course, you—”

 _“I don't know him, if you'll excuse me, sir,"_ Dean leaves the room.

He tells Charlie. Fucking tell her everything on the phone while he is in the bathroom because his blood boiling. He has changed his uniform because his shift is over. Whoever takes care of the princely Castiel Novak, they probably have to deal with his wrath as Dean is sure, he saw Castiel almost stand up when he leaves the room. He can't stay in that shift, but he needs to get his emotions down first so he pours to the only outlet he has, Charlie. Sam will kill him if he grumbles about his boyfriend's trouble. They don't do chick flicks.

Charlie who curses in his ears at the beginning having just woken from her beauty sleep, but quickly catching up on Dean's story and she is squealing.

_"Yeah, woah, that's hot, Dean!"_

Dean groans. "Charlie, did you listen to me?"

 _"No, I did! I'm sorry but Dean! You fucked the a.k.a Blue-eyed demon of 707! And Michael Milton's brother!? If you aren't Dean and some random employee, I'd say get off the shit you're taking but this!"_ she squeals in his ears that somewhat calmed Dean's heart. _"So are you guys gonna go steady?"_

_"Steady!? You really didn't listen- he used me Charle! Fucking used me to get on his brother's nerves! I have a brother and I'd never do that to my own! My kind! Family strict rules, you don't fuck with your brother's boyfriend!"_

_"Oh, but Dean, that was only a blind date, surely you didn't think Michael was already your-"_

"The point is he saw us together and still fucked me."

_"Yeah? Aren't you downplaying how incredibly irresistible you are?"_

Dean leans on the wall and heaves a sigh, his cheeks pink. He grumbles his agreement, but it's still not the point. He hears Charlie sigh on the other side.

_"Look, Dean, just ask him, ask Novak? The way you tell me his reactions just now, I think he may have been jealous."_

Dean harks a laugh. "Like I'll let him get a piece of me again,"

_"Yes, that's the spirit! I mean, if he does want you. You made it perfectly clear to him there's no attachment between you and his brother whatsoever before you get to the good part, right?. And if he's snarling at his brother like that, then that 's only jealousy. I mean, if it's a one night stand why would he even bother asking about you? He could have ignored you while you were there, but he didn't. He raised you to his brother, pointed at you. He wants to claim you there, Dean, even to the point of disregarding whatever his brother has to say, then that's something. It's clear as daylights to me- he wants you... and you want him too, right, Dean?"_

Dean closes his eyes. _Fuck yes._ He must've said it out loud.

_"Then go fuck him to your heart's content, bitch."_

Dean laughs and wipes his face with his calloused hands. Charlie is right, the fucking part, yeah, but looking at her reasons, it seems plausible. Doesn't mean Novak is off the hook yet (he did still leave him alone) so when he thanks Charlie and hangs the phone and hears 707 is calling for a room service pass his duty, Dean gladly takes his jacket and tells the next shift taker good luck, he leaves the premises to finally take a long shower, a good nap and maybe even let Castiel Novak in another of his wet dreams because Novak's sex hair is worth every masturbation.

When he reports on duty the next midnight, it's to find an awfully gloomy Garth who reports to him the even that morning.

"He shut the door on my face and hasn't ordered anything since. Someone saw him leave the premises too,"

Well, that was eventful. Dean pulls on his vest and nods in silence.

"Winchester," Kevin calls as he enters the lounge area, "on the phone, there's a monster looking for you. He says he called for room service and that ''Fuckin Dean Winchester' should get it.

"I got it," Dean grimaces again. That's one way to be subtle, what a brat. But Dean's had a very good day so maybe he'll also get a very good night. "Thanks, Kevin,"

He hurries to the cart waiting area and sure enough, there's the familiar food Dean ate when he dated Michael and the same brand of champagne. Way to remind him of their night together, but Dean's heart is hammering. This morning, he made it clear that he is not looking for anything from Castiel Novak because that's the fucking root of everything. _He was expecting more._ Well, maybe he was expecting for more, fuck, but he tells himself nothing more. He goes to the seventh floor with each of his steps beating in his ears.

He reaches the door and knocks. He opens it upon Castiel's familiar voice and sees the room, in the same manner, he did that morning, except now, the lamps are on and midnight strikes the skyline across the window where Castiel Novak is standing with his back on him wearing his trenchcoat.

Dean announces room service and pushes the cart in. Quietly he fixed the plate without looking up. Novak will not play him, he will play Novak if this is only about fucking anyway. _But a tax accountant dress? What is this man's job?_

Dean clears his throat once done. There is Castiel gazing at him hard and lustful, Dean just wants to kiss him. Instead, he stares down to his offering on the table.

“I uh, everything is set for your snack, sir.” He clears his throat with eyes already darting at the doorway, “If there’s anything else…?”

_“You.”_

Dean freezes at the closeness of the voice. He turns and there’s Castiel beside him, staring at him with those piercing eyes that don’t know boundaries of hotness, the eyes that watched Dean break apart beneath him on the bed again and again. Dean warms up and turns away. He clears his throat again. Control... control... he can smell Castiel's sweet perfume, the exact smell he remembers down there, kneeling. Dean is losing it.

“I’ll leave you to your meal, sir—”

The door slams close before he can reach it and then strong hands whirl him back pins him by the door. Before Dean can shout in protest, his mouth is full of Castiel, his stomach turning into a puddle on the hot kiss.

It comes back to him. His brain is frying at that moment. The fullness of the lips, the familiar strong hands on his waist, the pull of someone who wants him very badly, the sound of their lips making most obscene noise. Dean groans against Cas's mouth. His body remembers. Castiel boldly slips his tongue in his mouth. Dean forgets everything, his hands weak against Castiel's chest.

“Beautiful. So beautiful… You’re _mine_.”

Dean’s heart both lifts up and sinks. The sound of the promise hitting him like its cold ice. And it comes back to him, waking up alone in the hotel, waking up trying to put lose threads of why he was the one left behind. The sweet taste on his mouth turns sour as it nibbled his bottom lip.

Castiel Novak left him in that hotel room without a word. Dean doesn’t forget. He slaps Castiel’s hand away from his cheek and draws himself in full height, reminding himself he is so much taller than Cas.

“Will that be all, sir? Then I should leave you to your breakfast.”

Castiel’s round eyes gape.

“Dean, don’t you remember—”

“No, sir.”

“Quit playing around,” Castiel says, leaving lavish kisses against his skin "You're mine."

"I'm..." hating himself, Dean really presses hard enough so he and Castiel are staring eye to eye. "You... you knew I was dating your brother,"

Castiel stays silent. Dean swallows hard. He would have appreciated if Castiel kissed him again, tell him it doesn't matter, that Dean is his and they can go in his bedroom where Dean can get that bulge out of the tight pants and swallow him. Castiel did not. Castiel stares at him with a flicker of guilt he really doesn't know how to hide.

It's as if frozen water is splashed on his face. Dean throws Castiel off him and buttons his jeans Castiel has already reached. He would punch Cas if the guy isn't so handsome, maybe a slap should do.

"You're fucking hilarious, you know that,"

"I can explain,"

"No, you used me, Cas! What else is there to explain? I'll tell you one thing, I'm not a slut!"

He storms off the room leaving Castiel Novak behind. He jumps to the elevator with humiliation all over him. He hates the asshole, hates his dick too! If only his heart would wrenching and his skin would start ignoring the tingle of Castiel’s touch. Even his lips are betraying him the way it remembers Cas’ lips.

And Dean thinks he just got his heartbroken.

Dean slams his door shut and drops the grocery bag on the table. His little apartment looks the same when he last left it before going to work. He doesn’t bother putting the meat on the fridge yet. Instead, he kicks his shoes off and drops his back on the couch with a heavy sigh.

He stares at the ceiling thinking of everything that happened ever since he clocked in on his shift. How things escalated from simple delivery of tray to waiting for the Blue-eyed- demon and now finding out the guy he fucked weeks ago was actually his boss’ brother and how he was treated like a whore.

Dean grimaces. It’s bad enough to think he’s in charge of this guy during his shift, worse for him too because his body aches at the touches that burns him inside out. There’s strange pressure in his chest, aching and a little sweet because being broken-hearted is Dean's expertise too. But he thinks why is he so hung up on Cas? Someone who only made one of his many nights... unforgettable?

_Be mine._

Dean sits up and groans. His erection surprised him. It's one of those things he regrets now but it's too late. Castiel's effect on him is almost instantaneous that if Dean stops caring, he'd just go get a piece of Novak. Some very hot lips and blue eyes next to him sounds right. Except this is the guy who used him, that's why it eas so easy to leave Dean that morning... god, he is so hung up. 

But he’s not going to let Castiel do that again. A difficult task, but not impossible. There are rules in the hotel and one of them was 'no indecent conduct with guests' so he can always use that to his excuse. No special service to your guests. Not a menu. Except Castiel has already ordered the meal course and Dean's in danger of giving it to him again.

Dean turns his body to his right and sulks. He tosses again and turns until he finds himself staring at the ceiling

He gulps. The touch of Castiel’s lips still feels heavy on his lips.

He lays on his back and stares at the ceiling again. His place is so quiet. He can hear his own breathing. There’s no other way for this to end, and Dean always makes sure to deal with something he worries about by _not worrying about it_.

Except. Castiel is making him hard just remembering.

Quietly, Dean slips his hand inside his pants. He's not really one good at memory and by the end of his orgasm, he's desperate for Castiel's touch. So desperate Dean is on his feet preparing for his midnight duties.

Dean sees Charlie’s scribbles on the note board the moment he entered the locker room around 11:30 in the evening looking fresh and renewed. He was fixing his cuff when he saw her writing for him, there complete a Harry Potter deathly hollows mark (Charlie is not hating JKR just yet because goddess), he reads.

_Guess what? Blue-Eyed-Demon didn’t leave the building the entire day, can you believe that? This is history in the making! You should really tell him about your schedule._

- _Charlie_

Dean makes a face. He takes on updates on the bulletin and the list of delivery by his shift. Being in the delivery crew, it’s up to him to know the served meals at the moment, know their ingredients and prepare a list of suggestions in case the guest asks—at the same time prioritizing the diet of said guest and their preferences. Most especially with allergies. God knows the trouble it caused other restaurants and hotels around Eden. Everyone in the Room’s Department is well informed about the menu items and nightly specials. They also need to be aware of every group booking and VIPs on their floor. So far, the only VIP Dean can tell is the hot stuff from 707.

Aside from that, they also need to be aware of all the ingredients of a different menu. Table setting is nothing to Dean, he’d often find extra table cloth on his back pocket and his arm. Garth enters the room and Dean sees his eyes light upon seeing him.

“Hey, man, you’re early. Heard about the new change—?”

“Yeah, I know. Blue-eyed didn't leave the room.” Dean makes a face and Garth beams.

“I get why everyone’s nervous about him. I went to deliver his lunch and when I entered his room, he stared at me so hard like he wants to disintegrate me, it's discomfiting. Guy’s not in the mood. You better be careful.”

“Thanks, Garth. I got it,” Dean ignores the chill that runs up his spine. He’s got a bad feeling 707 is going to make it hell for him tonight. Or it's the other way around as he stretches his pants because damn his bulge he quickly hides but turning away.

“Where’s Ketch?” Dean asks. Garth looks around and then to his watch.

“You know how he’s meticulous with time, he’s British.”

“Right. Other complaints I need to hear about aside from this blue-eyed angel—?”

“He’s a devil.”

Dean and Garth both turn as Ketch comes in while removing his gloves looking put out.

“What happened?” Dean raises both eyebrows and they watch Ketch walk to his locker with a little less finesse than what they are accustomed to seeing from the room service crew.

“Your Blue-Eyed Devil called Room Service about an hour ago. As standard, I came around to deliver. Found the room number and following protocol—knocked three times and announced ‘room service.’ Guess what? No one answered the door. I tried again because I have a soup, mind you and there’s no DND outside so how should I know? But I am familiar with Charlie’s exaggerated story—and the other fangirls on the accounting and auditing office— about this striking gentleman. Naturally, I got curious—”

“You big snoop.” Dean chuckles but he listens attentively.

“I knocked again then the door opens. This happened promptly around 2:25 and as I greet the handsome fellow—because he is—with that untidy, rumpled chair and bare chest just wishing to be nibbled at—” Dean grits his teeth and something in him wants to sock Ketch to make him shut up. 

Was that… _jealousy?_

“—I greeted him good day, sir— and you know what happened next? He gave me a death glare—a _death glare,_ I tell you, and I thought, of course, he was seducing me—” Ketch goes on as Garth rolls his eyes, but Dean stays silent. He did masturbate with the dude on his mind a couple of hours back.

“He’s not seducing you, he’s really out there to make a sudden kill,” Dean says while Garth laughs hard. Ketch throws them a dirty glare.

“Anyway, he let me in after I explained my purpose. He was on his boxers. He looked very delectable."

Dean turns away. Now there's a growling dragon at the pit of his stomach because no one was supposed to see Castiel naked except for him.

"-when I turn around, he was behind him and he looked like he wants to ask something with that sexy mouth-"

"Ketch, finish your point," Dean growls.

"Well, I asked if he wants more off the menu course-"

Garth whistles. Dean's jaw clenches. Someone else wanting Castiel... makes his headache, his insides burn and makes him want to punch something. Ketch blinks at Dean's glare.

"What? he looked like he needs off steam so I did, and then in this very sexy, powerful voice—tells me to get out. I had to insist he sign the delivery charge, nearly begging for a touch, you see? He is very hot. By the time he’s done glaring at me and I ask what time he wants me to return in all suggestion, he’s already sending me out of the room.”

“So nothing happened?” Dean sighs, wondering if he was actually expecting Ketch to tell a different twist in the story where the Blue-eyed devil does something true to the name.

“He shut the door on my face and this is where we find each other.” Ketch has removed his coat and begins unbuttoning his shirt still sounding irritated.

“Ketch, you should know better than mess with a guy who got one employee fired,” Dean says shrewdly from his corner as he closes his name tag. “I mean, we have all buttons to save our crew, but which button are the guests going to push to save them from you?”

"I'm off the clock," Garth shakes his head and enters the washroom, locking the door behind him. Ketch and Dean stare at each other.

“Tut tut, you have met the handsome blue-eyed demon how many times?” Ketch turns to Dean fully, “Being in the afternoon shift apparently doesn’t make a difference in his mood and frankly, I do love my job, it pays well so I am not going to contradict him unless he orders off my menu—”

“Keep your pants on Ketch,” Dean says irritably, “He’s not gonna be interested in you.”

“And how would you know?”

Dean swallows and doesn’t answer.

“Oh? Are you interested—"

“I said shut up,”

“Oh?” Ketch raises eyebrows. Dean doesn't look at him. “Fine. I will do my business and you do yours. Let’s see who can catch him naked on his couch while touching himself, shall we?”

“Fucking douchebag,” Dean hisses but he calms down.

Ketch wouldn’t believe him if he told him he's gone off first, second, and fourth base. But another twinge of jealousy hits his nerves. Instead of bickering with Ketch and saying something he’ll regret later, he closes the door and proceeds to the kitchen area where the list of food he needs to check is already waiting. There’s one order from the 7th floor for someone else to take but there’s no one in the waiting area. Checking the content of the tray, he pushes the cart to the service elevator. When he stops around 707 it doesn't open.

Castiel is not around to even bother with Dean Winchester’s hurt princess pride. It annoys Dean even more.

Maybe he should tell Castiel his schedule.

Dean waits three days before his first contact with the blue-eyed demon again.

Contrary to the rumors around, even if the blue-eyed demon stays, he rarely comes out of his room to enjoy the parlor or the swimming pool and other hotel amenities. The housekeepers reported cleaning the untouched meal every day, those hours where Dean is not available. It makes him think Castiel is avoiding him too. But what are with that untouched food?

 _“It’s still on his tab.”_ Says Ketch with a shrug.

Dean heard many rumors going around, about how the guy is a member of a mobster, how he is a divorcee trying to escape from a clingy partner, then the nonstop rumors about the blue-eyed demon and the handsome British man he goes back into his apartment sometimes. Donna from the security Department’s operation room confirmed many nights after seeing them together with her own eyes. This is the topic of discussion when Dean clocks in again. Weird way to be discreet inside the lounge area but to be fair, only 707 has the power to make such a fuss with the staff.

Dean is pissed. Way to make himself feel important for the blue-eyed-demon who never looked for him since. At least he is off Dean’s back which also left another bitter taste in his mouth. He’s never seen the man again even when his duty requires him to be on the centerfold of the 7th floor the entire midnight. From his shift at 12 am to 8 in the morning, there is no sign of him.

“This is not how you lot should be behaving.” Comes their Concierge, Hester after accidentally hearing the ladies from the Uniformed Services talking about the mysterious guest, they saw going out the next evening.

But Dean is mostly disappointed. The interest just spikes up when in the third week, the employees finally saw him in broad daylight in the hotel’s café with his equally stunning companion who is both wearing sunglasses as they sit near the tall windows where the summer light brightens their skins. The way Castiel makes head turns is unbelievable. Dean only hears the story that night when Charlie calls him up as he's preparing for his shift.

 _“I think it’s really his boyfriend,_ ” Dean hears Charlie say, "You guys really off each other now?"

"There was never really us, Charle," Dean sits down in the lounge with the assistant counterparts taking charge.

“Shame... I mean he is _hot_ , and he’s very graceful like an angel if you see him move. If you watch the CCTV camera, you’ll really see some people taking a second look as he walks past them. I mean, he could be hot in their eyes, but I never really liked guys.”

“The first one out of many,” Dean mutters, "but you know who wears sunglasses in the middle of the afternoon inside a hotel dining area, Charle? Douche bags." Charlie snorts.

“What’s wrong with you? Jealous, are we?"

“No, I’m still adjusting to the time. I still can’t sleep out the rest of the day you know. Usually, I spend it talking to Sam. He wants me to spend the holidays with him, but we both know we're gonna be booked before we can say December."

_“Oh, that's true... but Dean, you and Novak really...?"_

“ Let’s not just talk about this, okay? I need to go get my shift now before Bobby finds out I’m sleeping on the job.” he fakes a yawn as he exits the room area.

Castiel doesn’t ring for him. Dean doesn’t look for him.

By the time Dean gets to his midnight shift again, he gets this feeling that someone’s watching him for real. It’s not like that creepy show where they tell you to just make salt ring works, not true. It’s a solid feeling of having someone’s eyes on your back. It disappears through when 707’s number finally flashes on the screen and Dean’s forgets all about it. His heart crashes on the floor when he stands up, completely blanking out for a moment.

So Castiel is around. Castiel wants to see him. Castiel is calling. Dean doesn’t know what to think so he lets his body do the work. Running to the kitchen to get the fucking coffee included on the list, he proceeds to do his room service.

He gets on the elevator with a strange tight feeling. He never thought Castiel would even call him back. Thought it over after like two weeks? The way Dean remembers their last meeting, it was obvious he ended it there and then. The way Castiel dealt with it, it was also obvious he got the message.

Dean can’t decide what he hates more. Maybe he should not have used those eyes to relieve himself every afternoon when he is bored enough and his mind drifts to the Castiel and his frigging hot blue-eyes. Maybe when he left the room that week, he also should have stopped jerking himself with Castiel’s name on his lips. There are many things he could have done after deciding to forget Cas, but forgetting him was never really part of it.

He easily finds 707 but doubles to check the number on the issued order to make sure. He knocks three times and announces himself. Nothing came.

Dean’s about to knock again when a pair of heavy hand grabs his shoulder and pulls him back. In a second Dean finds himself face to face with the guy whose manic eyes and grin sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine— _Leo Webb_ —the crazy dude who keeps taking his pictures. Dean frowns, so the creepy feeling...?

“Hi, Dean, been waiting for you. I finally found your shift and floor, oh damn me, you still look good.”

“Evening, sir.” Dean glances at 707’s close door, then back at Leo. If there was anything Dean expects tonight, it was not to be ambushed by a frantic photographer who looks too excitable enough to bite Dean’s legs.

“Oh, Dean… you don’t know how hard it was, I missed seeing you,” Leo gushes in a low whisper, and Dean wonders if the man thinks this is a date? Dean doesn’t want to make a scene that night, not in front of Castiel’s door especially. Yet he doesn’t let his guard down knowing from history, how Leo has been adamant to keep his room close for any housekeepers to clean. Dean doesn’t complain. Leo can keep his hobbies as long as he doesn’t bother Dean.

Leo steps closer a little awkwardly. Dean raises both eyebrows. Now that’s new. It occurred to him that the man never really approached him before. Dean tries to remember the last time he saw Leo then he thinks. Do stalkers have withdrawal?

"Uh, sorry sir, I am on shift and-"

“Oh, then can I ask you to go to my room after your delivery?” There's a longing in his eyes, hunger in his tone. Dean presses his lips recognizing the signs. Too bad he's not in any room to push any panic button. Okay. So is he panicking?

“I’m sorry, sir, I would like to help you, but I have 707 as a private service—"

“Why? I’m still a guest here, am I not?” Leo gets uncomfortably closer to Dean with this big frown behind desperate eyes, “Come on, Dean. It’ll be quick.”

Dean tries to smile. “Sir—”

Leo's strong hand lands on Dean’s wrist and it surprises him how strong Leo’s grip can be.

“Sir, let go,” Dean says calmly, and by instinct, pushes the guy so forcefully, Leo stumbles back, but his eyes only focus on Dean again. And he wasn’t even drunk.

“C’mon, Dean—just for a minute? Please? Why are you pushing me away?”

“I am on duty—”

“So after duty?” he sounds hopeful. Dean sighs, patience waning.

“Look, please, if there’s anything I can do to help you other than inviting me to your room, I’d gladly—”

“That’s what I like about you—you’re always so nice, Dean.” His eyes gleam darkly, his hold tightening. “Oh, you’d look beautiful on my bed, in my chain—in my dungeon—"

 _Where the hell did those come from?_ Well, okay Dean is much aware of some BDSM but this? Dean blinks. 

“You have a dungeon?” _What lunacy—_

Leo suddenly steps closer, his chest bumping on Dean’s arms.

“You’ll look good all tied up nice too.”

Dean’s body trembles only because he saw pure intent on the guy. Like anytime soon, he’ll take him and keep him away without anyone’s knowledge. And suddenly, all Dean can picture is himself inside his empty apartment. How Leo can easily break in and take him—tie him up rough and do what—how this guy is thinking about it if he gets rejected now.

 _But it’s there, sitting behind Leo’s eyes._ Fear struck Dean. Dean convinces himself this is not borderline offensive, then again, watching things and observing people, you’d be surprised how those who look harmless are the ones to be frightened of. He’s sure the CCTV catches this now—he wonders how fast they can respond because hell—the buttons are only available inside the suites—Leo presses on his side. And Dean’s sure he’s going to lose his job this time because yes, he’s gonna teach the guy a lesson—

 _“My coffee is getting cold_.” Says a deep, deep, gravelly voice.

Dean turns around quickly. Room 707 is now wide open and there’s Castiel in his white robes, uncombed hair, blue eyes upon Deans while he leans his arms on the door. 

"C-" Dean shuts his lips, eyes wide. Castiel stares at him, then death glares at Leo who steps back from Dean frowning.

“What are you still doing? Get this in my room.”

Castiel sidesteps as Dean quickly ducks inside with the cart. He feels Leo's eyes still watching him like a hawk until the door closes behind him. Dean breathes a sigh of relief with hands gripping the handle of the car tight. The room door closes and Dean is struck for the first time how from the frying pan into the fire it goes.

He sharply turns around him and there is Cas, bathrobe and all, blue eyes on him as he leans on the door with arms crossed. Dean holds his gaze. He wants to say thank you but didn't. The atmosphere sets his heart thundering in his chest because holy fuck, Castiel in a bathrobe, he can almost taste him.

"So... got people after your piece of ass, huh, Dean?"

Dean flushes. 

“He’s not leaving.” Castiel crosses his arms while watching the small monitor panel, “You have people like this follow you around? Is this the same guy who harassed you? I thought Michael dealt with that?"

Dean looks at Castiel awkwardly before pushing the cart deeper to the side of the table he cleaned many nights ago.

“It's pretty common sir, but this one is harmless.” He looks distractedly at the tray while pulling all the professional etiquette he can remember, trusting his brain to remember the pattern or next words to say. He picks up the checklist to repeat the order but his tongue keeps sticking on his palate—

“Forget it, sit on the couch,” Castiel says again but Dean ignores him.

“I’m only here to serve your meal, sir.”

“Fuck meal, you're the only main course I'm having."

Dean shoots him a hard look, then he fails at the intense gaze the blue eyes are giving him. He doesn't respond and this encouraged Castiel to step closer to him.

"Dean,"

"No."

"We need to talk, Dean. And I'm not letting you out of my sight until that rabid man disappears."

"You're one to talk," Dean stares at Castiel really hard. One minute he’s standing by the cart, the next he’s sliding down the couch with all the air in his lungs leaving his body. Castiel follows his suit.

There’s an awkward silence. Castiel observes him from where he sits at the other end of the couch just staring at him. Dean squirms at the feel of the familiar eyes and tries not to look how the guy is only on his brief inside the bathrobe. He tries not to remember the number of times he came because of those eyes.

_“Dean.”_

Dean’s whole face reddens. _Fuck._

“Dean,” the blue-eyed man repeats it, then meets his eyes. “Look at me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Dean exhales, surprised by the question. 

“Who’s the guy outside? A stalker?”

Dean’s eyes widen at the prospect. “No, no… he’s usually a timid guy only taking pictures.”

The blue-eyes narrow. “Taking _your_ pictures?”

“It’s okay, I got it under control.”

“Mm. Doesn’t look like that. Why don't you tell him to back off? You look like a guy who can easily get rid of him.

"Well, sir, I don't really sort to that kind of violence anymore,"

“Stop calling me sir, Dean. I get the game. I don’t like it.” Castiel shifts closer.

“Oh, sorry, sir.” Dean glares over Castiel, “I didn’t think I have to apologize for being polite.”

“For a guy who’s seen another side of you, I think we can drop all formalities.” his voice is rich on Dean's ear. Dean turns bright red but before he can say anything about how their shoulders are brushing with his arousal sniffing the air hopefully, Castiel goes, “Why didn’t you report him?”

“W-we already gave him a warning— And he only takes pictures" Dean is stunned at the concern.

“That’s the kind of neglect other people will see and blame you for ignoring. Warnings don’t work on people without self-restraints. You are practically vulnerable to him much more so in your working place.”

“You think I expected him to come bounding at this time of the hour?! You think I wanted this?”

"I want you to change your schedule. Some time safer."

Dean stares at him horrified. "You think I can easily do that? Why? So that you can bully me in the morning too? Like what you're doing to me every day I think of you, I'm losing my shit, man!"

Castiel's eyes rounds. "You're thinking-?"

"No, forget it!" Standing up, green eyes flashing before he can say anything he will regret later, Dean stomps back towards the door. He's done getting ordered around, done with stalkers and Playboys, and also because Castiel is not allowed to show him that much concern, about his schedule, about his well-being, about stalkers like they're fucking boyfriends.

"Where're you going?"

"Out-" Dean reaches for the door- except Castiel holds his hands and pulls him back. Dean gasps when Castiel turns him and slams his hand against the door. Dean is about to growl, about to tell him to fuck off- but when robes fall down Castiel's feet, practically leaving him naked before Dean presenting all the ample gift from heaven, Dean swallows.

[ ](https://www.deviantart.com/uddelhexe)

There's a dark glint in the blue eyes Dean recognizes only to be lust.

"You think of me too, Dean?" he steps near. Castiel's nakedness is before him again and Dean burns.

"Let go..." Dean says weakly. Their bodies press and the moan he lets out when Castiel holds him close, hand still pinned by the door.

"I don't think I'll ever let go of you again," Castiel breathes on his ears and Dean shudders.

"Asshole," Dean turns his head, enough to get their nose touching, and then he kisses his sexy blue-eyed demon, giving in to lust, giving in to the cry of his body wanting Castiel near. Castiel growls against his lips and grinds their hips. Dean loses all control. Castiel's body radiates so much greed to take him.

" _Be mine_ ," Castiel whispers, lips ghosting Dean's swollen ones.

This time Dean didn't deny him and leans in to capture the sweet lips in ardor. And if has doubt about what's happening, he trusts one thing at least, and that is his heart.


	4. Full Course

Dean cries when Castiel sinks inside him. The burn, the pain, the thrill all reminded him of their shared night where Castiel dominated his body. It happening again is a dream and Dean doesn't fucking care of consequences. His beaten heart can take another breaking, what he won't be able to live without is to deny himself this moment.

The room is dark, the moonlight wanes behind the white curtains and Dean gasps every time Castiel thrusts hit his magic spot. Castiel just knows how to fuck him in the right places and Jesus he is really hot above Dean. Wrecked and sweaty, damp sexy hair in places after Dean's hands are done with them. Castiel looks very much _fucked_ like him. The bed is too soft, too steady it doesn't ticket or makes any sound while Castiel fucks him hard. The thrust of his hips is unrestrained, the way he grinds to Dean is messy and unbidden. His mouth suckling Dean's skin, leaving marks to places that can't be concealed. The rhythm of their body while Dean loses his mind over pleasure and lust. Castiel fills him well. It's perfect.

And Castiel's erotic voice is to die for. Dean's eyes roll back when Castiel gives a final thrust and fills him inside. Castiel shouts and the timber of his voice is nothing Dean has ever heard before. He keeps a slow pull and thrusts inside Dean again in the chaos of his orgasm, chasing it inside Dean until his last spurt gives them both a shudder.

Castiel slumps on Dean's body, breathing hard. For a full five minutes, nobody spoke. Dean is breathing hard like he just ran a marathon, sweat-filled and still rock hard. There's a pop when Castiel's softening cock slips out of his ass and then the man is sliding down the bed. Dean opens his eyes in confusion until he sees Castiel kneeling between his legs. Brain on fire, body too tired to follow, he watches Castiel push his legs apart, hook Dean's left leg on his shoulder, and then holding his gaze- intent lust-filled eyes- Castiel's sinful lips close around his cock.

"Cas..." Dean's whole body shudders. Between his legs, Castiel worked him to the edge, dark hair bobbing up and down, licking and sucking and grazing his beautiful cock-sucking-lips on Dean's hard length. Dean can't help shouting Castiel's name, every time the head of his cock hits Castiel's throat. He closes his knees around Castiel's head and thrusts inside the hot mouth. He looks down and there's Cas, cheeks bulging with Dean's cock.

He cries, Dean fucking cries his orgasm hits him and he comes inside Castiel's lips. Castiel doesn't pull, he sucks Dean dry like it's his favorite hobby. And when Dean is too tired to move, Castiel crawls on top of him and kisses him dirty. Filled with Castiel still, Dean wraps arms around his blue-eyed demon and tells his body he can't rest and sleep... or Castiel will leave him again. But the bed is soft and Castiel's arms are warm when he pulls him, their bodies pressing, their nose grazing and Castiel tells him in his sleep how much he misses him. That can only be part of a dream.

Dean jolts awake with his body sore. He blinks at the darkness and tries to figure out where he is. He blinks sleepiness away then looks down his naked body wrapped in a blanket and then there's an arm. Gasping, he looks around him and there's a dark-haired man clinging on his waist- Castiel.

Dean panics. He remembers what they did-- and yes hot- but duty calls and when he stares out the window. It's still dark outside, that calms him, and the side table clock says 4:30. He slept for almost four hours! Aware that he is still on duty, he begins scrambling out of the bed but Castiel's grip only tightens.

"Hey, hey, let go!" Dean hisses, clasping Castiel's upper arm and sighing at how muscular Castiel is, "I'm still on duty and if they find this out I'm fucked!"

Castiel growls and opens his beady eyes. Dean remembers the rumor of the blue-eyed demon's sleepy state and fucking don't care. He throws Castiel's arm away and crawls at the foot of the bed, frantically looking for his clothes when he jumps at a pair of strong hands grabbing his ass.

"Hey!" he snarls but he stops upon seeing Castiel darkly staring at him, all bold and naked with his giant dick up and hard.

"Not yet done," Castiel murmurs and fuck- is he still asleep? But when Castiel bends down to give Dean's ass kiss bordering to make out, it didn't matter if he's half-asleep if he can get Dean's knees to tremble when it did.

"C-Cas...." Dean drops down the bed, his hands clutching the sheets as blood rush up to his head. It's so good, Castiel's mouth on his ass, licking and tonguing him. He can only moan. He can only pull the sheets as his ass shakes and gets good eating. Dean flattens his chest on the bed at the first knuckle.

"You're still so full of me," the handsome fucker says.

"Please, Cas!" Dean grits his teeth, his toes curling, "Just- just get inside me, please!"

He didn't have to ask twice as Castiel guides his cock in his ring and pops inside. Dean swears and puts both hands over the back of his head. Castiel drapes his molten body above him as he fucks Dean, sounds of their skins slapping, and Castiel's balls pounding against him while he thrusts inside Dean leaving him a wreck. he raises his ass and Castiel growls in his ears as he kisses every inch of Dean's shoulder. He takes Dean's already hard cock and pumps him, making Dean drop his face on the bed at the dual sensation.

"You're so beautiful," Castiel whispers while Dean cries beneath him. 

There's a knock on the door.

Dean freezes. Castiel fucks him from behind and hears nothing. There's the knock again and Dean thinks the DND was never put out there. But it's only 4 am- what?!

"Room Service," says Bobby's voice. _What the fuck?_

"C-Cas!" he cries

Castiel's thrust becomes frantic and he growls aloud. Dean doesn't dare move and gets off with Castiel jerking him hard the same time he comes inside him. Dean's head blanks out, Castiel's hand is tight on his cock and both dropped back on the bed breathing hard. It is delightful, it is dirty. Dean loves every inch of Castiel inside him.

The knocks have stopped. Dean knows Bobby is looking for him. And still, he got a pretty good fuck.

He makes sure he is proper uniform half an hour later. Castiel is still fully naked on the bed when he tells him he is leaving. To his surprise, the blue-eyed demon sits up, still beady-eyed and hot.

"Will you come back?" 

"My shift isn't until 12 am again, then I'm all yours," Dean doesn't hide it anymore. He likes the blossoming pattern between them and wouldn't mind getting a few more. He steels his heart, however. This is nothing more than casual clients with benefits who have received Dean's full consent on taking the special full course that is off for other clients. 

Just Cas. He makes to point that out to him.

"Just so you know... I'm only doing this with you,"

Castiel stops rubbing his eyes. At least that gets his eyes wide. Dean smiles because Castiel is cute too before he sighs and turns towards the door.

"Dean,"

Dean turns and there's Castiel embracing him. Surprised isn't the word. It's more on bewilderment.

"Dude, we're not fucking after I've already fixed my uniform."

"You make me want to mess you up in that uniform, Dean... don't blame me, you're so beautiful I just want you here..."

"Dude, we don't do chick flicks alright?" his voice is soft, forgiving Castiel for whatever he thinks the guy did to him. "I mean... stop being clingy,"

Castiel pulls back., eyes narrowing. "Dean, what do you think of me?"

Dean blinks. "Huh?"

Castiel leans close and stares him in the eyes hard.

"What do you think of me? Do you think I'm better than Michael?"

"What does your brother got to do with it?"

"I... I wasn't using you," Castiel says sincerely, his hands sliding down Dean's upper arm, "I want you to understand... when I saw you with Michael that night, I confess I was curious... and when he left you I thought I'd see if you're someone to inspect and I..." he swims in Dean's eyes.

"What?" Dean really, badly, wants to know.

Castiel drops his eyes. "I... I think I fell in love with you,"

Dean nods, lips pressing. "You know falling in love ain't that easy, you can't just-"

Castiel touches his cheeks and frames Dean's face in his hands, his blue eyes burning with lust.

"No, Dean. I've never felt anything like this with anyone. So when I told you to be mine, I was seriously... in love with you."

Dean bites his lips. He can't fall for this, it must be a lie. It's 5 am and they both still haven't had coffee.

"Look, uh.... you- you better sleep on it, cause it's hard to believe stuff with someone... you're fucking with. I mean... emotions get high-"

"I know myself, Dean. I know what I want." Castiel growls. "And judging from the way you react to me, it's safe to assume..." Dean blushes hard. But he doesn't forget. He nudges from Castiel’s hold but like how Castiel easily sweeps him off his feet, he finds himself trapped in his arms.

“You said you want me that night too,” he says, pushing Castiel's hands off him, his voice getting louder “But you left me that morning without a word, Cas, you left me, you asshole, so you don't get to tell me you're fucking in love with me.”

Castiel stares at him with his mouth hanging open, “Dean, I left you a message on your coat!”

Dean thinks hard, thinks of what coat, remembers it still in the driers after sending it there last week, and then he frowns.

"What kind of idiot would leave it in someone else's pockets! Why didn't you just leave it on the table or, wake me up!"

"You looked so tired and I thought I could catch you back, but I left my number, my contact information even the hotel room I'm in," Castiel insists, still holding Dean firm against him, not letting go, "Please, Dean... I really want you... just you." his face crumples, "I... don't want to miss you so badly again when we're in the same place... I want you, Dean."

There's a beat of silence. Dean frowns. "You sure it's in my coat pocket?"

Castiel nods.

Dean is not going to wait to find out. He captures Castiel's lips with his and kisses him hard because this is his. Dean is going to fucking stay to take what his and that's Castiel.

Dean holds his breath and forces to act cool as he pushes the cart to 707.

It's midnight and he hasn’t even gotten his buttons right when the buzzer for 707 relentlessly rings for Room Service back in the waiting room. Dean who has just returned to his house after getting his dry clean found Castiel's wet crumpled note inside his pockets, now he can't wait to get to Castiel's arms.

Damn Castiel and his badass attitude like he can order Dean around everywhere whenever and wherever just because they made up yesterday…and they made up a lot. Then again that’s why Dean is technically there for him. They made up and make up all because he too can't get his hands off Castiel's hot ass. He wants Castiel and he is breaking protocols on that. What can he do against the hot grumpy artist if not to lose his position? 

Arriving outside 707, Dean composes himself. Tries to act like standing there isn't giving him any butterflies. He schools his expression and knocks thrice and gave the same announcement even though he sees the DND hanging by the knob. He is sure as hell Castiel wouldn’t have it for anyone.

He hears the dry voice from inside and codes in the password before he pushes the cart in.

Not five seconds inside and Castiel is all over him after shutting the door close, kissing Dean senseless, his hands working on Dean’s leaving trail marks over Dean’s neck while Dean tries to catch his breath. Firm hands hold him steady and they get lost in the kisses.

“Gee, sir…” Dean gasps quite pinned by the door with hands uselessly clutching Castiel’s arm under the soft fabric of his bathrobe. “Please, sir… _I’m not that kind of room attendant.”_

Castiel laughs in Dean’s mouth and it’s the best thing Dean ever tasted. Castiel smells good. He just came out from shower at the wet trickles of his damp hair burned singes in Dean’s red cheeks. He’s lost for Cas.

“You can scream if you like,” Castiel pushes their chest together, crowding his face on Dean, breathing the same arid space, both looking in each other’s lips, “I like it if you scream…” he runs his delicate fingers on Dean’s buttons and pops them open one by one.

From where he lowers his eyes, he can see Castiel’s clavicle with the thread of bathrobe slipping on his shoulders. Dean grits his teeth at the impulse to kiss it, run his tongue to it, but Castiel is busy nipping his left lobe, not giving Dean any space to resist. Castiel slips a knee between his legs and all other thoughts leave Dean as he moans. He’s been hard walking to the corridor. Been hard for Castiel since he left that morning.

So engrossed was he to the sensation of Castiel’s touches, he snaps back at the sound of tearing uniform.

 _“Dude! How many times do I tell you don’t mess the uniform!”_ He doesn’t push Castiel away, he won’t lose the glorious thighs pressing on his hard groin.

“But you look hotter in uniform,” Castiel whispers open-mouthed on his ear, making Dean turn his head away with eyes shut. Castiel’s voice is doing things to him he can’t explain. “So neat and orderly… when you walk the corridor in your tight pants it makes me want to rip your clothes… kiss you in front of everyone… that’s what you do to me, Dean. _Dean…”_

Dean bites his lips, his whole face turning red. He wants to say the same to Castiel, except Castiel hasn’t really been marching around for everyone to see— but who’d ever thought he’d have his lips full of the Blue-eyed-demon lord hungrily pecking on his neck so eager, so wanting of Dean?

Thinking of the many jealous eyes, thinking of the many crazy rumors, thinking of it all-encompassing Castiel, Dean slips his hands possessively on Cas’ cock. The Blue-eyed demon is his, belongs to him.

Castiel makes a growl behind his throat and nudges his nose on Dean’s cheek.

“Are you really supposed to touch there?” Castiel arches an eyebrow teasingly.

“I need to make sure your body is in good condition, sir…” Dean stammers, turning bright when he slides his palms on Castiel’s bulky shoulder. The bathrobe slips on the floor leaving Castiel naked and pressing against him, hard as a rock. Dean’s eyes feasted on his muscles, the perfect shapes and contorts of his body like he’s never seen them before. Aroused by the beauty, he closes his fists in front of Castiel’s bathrobe and crashes their lips together.

Castiel responds in the same enthusiasm. Hands still on Dean’s sides, he angles their head so their noses don’t get in the way, licking inside Dean with tongue exploring the deepest recess. Dean moans and doesn’t care anymore that Castiel is unhooking his belt and unzipping

“You like what you see?” Castiel smiles at him, pleased.

Dean nods, face turning red as tomatoes. He shamelessly ran his palms over Castiel’s pectorals, sliding down to the jutting rib cages, down to Castiel’s said until his hands land on those remarkable hipbones he always drools on. Dean’s length tightens against the cloth of his pants and he can’t keep the soft hitch of his breath.

Castiel’s body is stunning.

“You want it?”

Dean nods again his breath catching. He leans close and presses his forehead on Castiel’s chin. “I want to suck you,” he whispers, the heat on his skin reaching up to the tip of his hears. He hears Castiel chuckle.

“You’re so beautiful when you blush.”

“S-shut up.”

_“You’re beautiful still when I’m inside you.”_

_“Cas…”_

“Of course, Dean. Take what you want.”

That’s the last straw before Dean falls on his knees. His face inches from Castiel’s cock, he delicately reaches both hands around it. There’s already a bead of cum forming at the tips. Dean bites his bottom lips and stares up.

Castiel is watching him with dark lustful eyes. His arms extended and pressing at the back of the door with a head bow down, looking at Dean.

His arousal reaches climax and Dean doesn’t pull his eyes away. He makes sure Castiel is looking at him when he opens his mouth wide and flattens his tongue on Castiel’s cockhead. The instant he did, a flash of something vulnerable appeared on Castiel’s face. His dominant eyebrows furrow closer, his eyes shut close and his lips— _shit—_ Cas like it’s everything he dreams of.

Shock, Dean wants to see more of it. Wants to see this side of Castiel he knows no one has ever truly seen. Dean takes Castiel’s cock whole, swallows him down not missing anything from Castiel’s expression. Castiel’s is still thick and full inside his mouth. Dean chokes on him and every time Castiel thrusts, Dean feels his throat constrict, he would clasp Castiel’s legs, then relaxes when he adjusted.

Castiel fucks his mouth and Dean loves every minute of it.

 _“Dean…”_ Castiel thrusts become hard and Dean braces himself. He knows that sound, the slight breaking, the quiver in his voice, the passion over Dean’s name repeated again and again like he’s making love to his name.

Dean shuts his eyes when Castiel buckles and pulls his hair as he explodes inside Dean’s mouth. He continued thrusting to the last spurt and Dean takes all of him, chokes on him again but he doesn’t pull away. His mouth felt numb, cum dripping on the corner of his mouth until Castiel slips strong under his arms and pins him back at the door. Their mouths crashing, he lets Cas taste his cum-filled mouth. Feels Castiel’s hands slide down to cup his ass and grind their fronts closer.

“Let me take care of you now, Dean.”

“Cas—wait—”

“Let me have my fun.”

He throws Dean on the couch and sucks him hard.

Dean loses all the words in his vocabulary as Castiel’s mouth swallows around his throbbing cock. His breath catches to small gasps every time Castiel drags him, sucking relentlessly. He lays there with the building tension in his stomach, legs splayed with ass raised up the armchair and Castiel between him, head bobbing with fervently as he deep throats Dean. The obscene sounds Dean makes is music in Castiel’s ear.

“ _Damn, Cas, your fucking mouth…”_ Dean hisses in pleasure as his body arched and his hips thrust upward in the heat of Castiel’s mouth. But then Castiel pulls off, leaving Dean in the air with the cold absence of his lips. Dean panics but when he looks beneath him, he sees Castiel sucking his own fingers, Dean knows what will happen next.

Dean yelps at the intrusion. Fireworks brighten his eyes and there’s Castiel’s finger pressing inside him. He sucks Dean and digs a second finger in, the dual sensation bringing Dean closer and closer.

“Cas…” he pants, legs spreading wider. Castiel pulls up, wet chapped mouth inches from Dean’s cock. He looks debauched and Dean wonders how he looked there, splayed in front of Castiel’s naked body while he was still in his buttoned shirt. It turns him on.

He sees the same lust reflect in Castiel’s eyes as his blue eyes rake down Dean’s body and stop on his cock. He jerks him lightly with wet palms.

“You look good like this, Dean… all for me to take…”

Dean groans loud when Castiel sucks him again. Castiel is relentless. He works Dean’s entrance while sucking him, and then he eats Dean for breakfast. Tongue lapping on his sensitive hole, Dean squirms and tries to reach for Castiel’s hair to no avail. Castiel is too far down, licking and stretching him with his spit-slick fingers patiently until his mouth returns in sucking Dean’s pulsing length, three fingers deep inside his body. Dean thrusts his hips forward with another gasp. Cas stays there far longer and Dean’s body feels like it would burst any second.

 _“Fuck.”_ Castiel pulls and straightens his body, leaving Dean a hot mess. Dean pulls his arms away to see Castiel watching him before he pulls Dean’s body closer to his, ass pressing on Castiel’s pelvis, closer to his mouth-watering hipbones.

Dean grits his teeth watching as Castiel strokes his cock and from an angle it looked enormous, preparing for the breach. It’s hot and it’s lewd and it’s everything Dean wanted. Dean doesn’t know where to hold on so he folds his arms over his face, biting his arms when he feels the head of Castiel’s blunt cock enters him.

Dean’s mind turns blank leaving only his mouth gasping for air as he moans. Castiel pushes in with the same pleasure, same burning sensation Dean’s body has been looking for until Castiel is all the way in. They take a moment to adjust to the feeling, Dean squirming his hips trying to put Cas’ cock in the right place of his clenching ass, their bodies burning together.

Castiel mutters a curse, then his blue eyes are hard on Dean when he pulls and slams back in. Dean’s body rocks tenfold at each hit of Castiel’s hips, the sound of skin to skin as Castiel fucks him ceaselessly pounding till Dean sighs when Cas finds his magic spot again. Castiel drives forward and Dean clutches the couch for support, eyes rolling back in his head every time Castiel pushes him to the edge.

“Cas…” he sobs when he feels Castiel roll his hips to pound harder.

Castiel pulls his legs higher to his shoulders, finding that another angle. He holds out on Dean, closing his fist around the root of Dean’s cock to prevent him from coming. For a long time, it’s only their bodies on fire, the sweat of their skin and the moans of pleasure in their lips that register until Castiel frees Dean’s cock and crawls on top of him, bottoming inside Dean, locking into the roughest, bruising kiss. Castiel grabs Dean’s cock again and jerks him until Dean is crying on his cheeks, wanting the aching tension to leave his body.

“Please, please…” he cried breathlessly. Castiel presses their forehead together.

“ _Come.”_

It’s a demand Dean is only happy to comply with.

His weeks are a far cry from his boring ones since Castiel came to his life.

So it's all about the hotel now and his 707 charge, and the fuck never stops. They sneak around every time and no one, not the world cares because 707 is their heaven and the time is just right.

They've done it in all corners of the room, from the living room, the doorway, to Castiel's fridge where Dean tackles him because the idiot just walks out of his shower without any towel and leans down to grab a drink while Dean fixes his snack. What is Dean to do except touch Cas in places he knows attendants are never allowed to do? But Castiel lets him do what he wants smugly.

“Am I allowed to touch you here, Cas? Of course, I am.” Dean ’s hands grope his cock and the expression of Castiel’s pleasure gets Dean kneeling down and taking his handsome client in his mouth. Castiel cries out in pleasure while he thrusts deep in Dean’s mouth.

He sees Castiel watching his reaction with an expression he cannot read. Castiel’s cock throbs inside his mouth and Dean buckles when he touched his own cock. He strokes himself while sucking Castiel and it’s about a full time fucking in his face before Castiel is pulling him up and thrusting him back on the sofa.

“Cas…” he grapples around Castiel’s pectorals, not wanting to lose the touches. Castiel drops on him, his leaking cock resting on Dean’s belly. “Cas, don’t mess with the uniform…”

“Don’t stop wearing one when you’re here… but I can’t have you running naked around… people will get a good look at you and take you from me. I don’t like that, you’re mine.”

It’s this that gets Dean always gets him on. Castiel wanting him, so bad. Safe to say, Castiel messes him on the sofa, wrecked his pink glory hole while Dean breaks apart. And it's everything he needed every day. But there are days that Castiel just disappears too. he disappears for three days without telling Dean but it's fine. Castiel has told him the extent of his work (Castiel works for many universal studios as an art director and is in demand even in the East. His headquarters is supposed to be in Japan, but Michael pulls him back here because of hotel business)

"I don't want it, hotelling is not my... thing."

Dean hums beside him while they are wrapped around each other on Castiel's bed.

"Then tell him to fuck off." Dean giggles. He'll never tell Michael that.

"You think I haven't done that? Michael is tying my hands here, Dean..."

"Ah, I like that, you tied on the bed..." Dean catches a light of interest in the blue eyes. The thought scorches in his imagination and he wished there's a way for it to happen. By the look of Castiel's face, he's already thinking of it, "But Cas, you tell me you hate it when Michael tells you what to do and yet you're here listening to him. You only come back here whenever he calls you, you jump from plane to plane because you got other commitment out there and yet you're here You're actually a very caring, obedient brother, Cas,"

Dean smiles and pecks a kiss on Castiel's lips. To his immense surprise, Castiel turns scarlet and turns away from him. Dean tackles him because Castiel is so adorable when he is flustered and embarrassed whenever Dean praises him.

He dives his body over Castiel so he is practically thrown like a sack on top of the blue-eyed demon. Castiel is still so red, Dean won't believe it if he didn't see it. But he likes this side of Castiel. Grumpy to the point of pain, indifferent to other matters but is fixated on his work while trying to give his brother space in his life. While he also gives Dean space in his life. Dean loves it. He doesn't tell him that because Castiel still disappears so every time they are together, he cherishes it.

“Stop it.” Dean swats Castiel’s hand from unbuttoning his shirt again after having just fixed them. “Keep your hands to yourself, I’ve got work.” They've just finished a good full course and Castiel is still begging for more. Well, not begging per se, seducing him more like with that cute hot ass.

“I am your work,” Castiel mutters with cheeks grazing on Dean’s jaw like a cat on heat. It makes Dean quirk his lips, Cas becoming an addiction to him in this silly-sneaky- romance. _“And stop pinching my ass!”_

“You got such a fine ass.” Castiel leans on him, “hot hole too.”

“Fuck off,” Dean bristles. Cas knows how to dirty talk can make him go all flustered. “Why don’t you go look in the mirror and shake your own booty? I’ve got work to do Cas, been here for four hours straight, they’ll get suspicious.”

“I am your work,” Cas says languidly, walking back to the couch while he runs his fingers on his very untidy sexy hair. Dean watches him with hunger pooling in his stomach, liking the way Castiel’s hair is all over the place because his hands have been on them the entire dawn.

“Order some breakfast so I can come back here before you disappear.” He tells Cas, walking after him on the couch. He catches the meaningful smile lightening the blue eyes. Dean can’t help putting both hands on either side of the couch just to lean and kiss his lips. Warmth spreads in his heart that has nothing to do with the building in front of his jeans. He just finds himself wanting to kiss Castiel every day they meet.

“Why order when I can eat it here.” Castiel cups his cheeks to draw him closer again, catching his bottom lips with gusto.

“I can’t. They’ll start looking for me, it’s almost time for my shift to be over.”

“So? Why won't you date me in the morning, Dean?"

"Because you have work in the studio, you told me, and you're always on deadlines," Dean has heard of Castiel's studio many times. Has been invited many times to go together with a date but Dean doesn't want to. H wants Castiel but not outside the hotel walls. They've never dated and they've been together for months now. Clearly there is still some wall there, but Dean is trying to protect himself to the best of his abilities. Especially since Castiel still tends to disappear. The hollow in his chest deepens but he ignores it. It's the only way he can stay with someone like Castiel.

"Whatever makes you think we can’t be seen in public?

Dean chuckles, stepping away from Castiel who can’t stop kneading his ass. He goes to the wall mirror and arranges his

“Put on your pants.” Dean shuts his eyes, ignoring the crawling heat on his cheeks.

Castiel glowers as he put both hands on his hips. Castiel brazenly stands before him still naked to which Dean doesn’t complain. Castiel can walk outside naked and no one would complain. Castiel can fly from country to country and Dean will not also complain.

"Dean...?" Dean stares back to see Castiel squinting at him. "Are you okay?

“It’s okay,” Dean says, pulling away from Castiel, "You have work again this week, right?"

Castiel nods nonchalantly and they don’t talk about the topic, not when Castiel kisses him hot and sweet. Dean tries to forget that Castiel will someday just disappear like a bird spreading his wings to leave him to reach for the sky. He doesn’t think about being left behind. He thinks of Castiel and their moments. He satisfies himself with that, with Castiel returning in his arms every month, basking in their heat, Castiel groaning on his skin. Dean can leave with Castiel away from his arms. He always returns.

He can’t ask for more.

Dean wants more.

How can't he when he finds Castiel yet again in the hotel after a week's absence, now joining the other guest in the dining hall that evening. Wearing his dark suit that fits his profile of dark-haired, blue-eyed and handsome while eyes turn in his direction. There are several guests eyeing him with interest while Dean serves the tables having been relieved of midnight duties after he informs Bobby that Castiel won't be around for a week. Bobby never asks anymore. Bobby may have suspicions, not to mention the less troubling reports from 707, but no one mentions it to Dean. Even Ketch is quiet about it and only rolls his eyes whenever the ladies mention Cas.

Castiel's presence in the hall is felt by many. Seated at the far end of tables where attention should be scarce, he is like a moonlight star that gathers light on his own. Murmurs of wanting to approach him, but their manners holding them back, Dean can't help but smile and glad Castiel is not one to care about trivial things when he approached Dean that night Michael left him. Manners indeed.

Then again, it's what saved Dean the trouble of acting up and hustling Castiel away in case someone really approaches. He wants to badly reach Castiel except he is on duty. At the same time, not telling him he will return tonight, Dean is practically seething. He missed Castiel, that's the truth of it.

Except it takes Dean a whole ten minutes before he finally manages to get in Castiel's table near the elegant windows. Eyes fall in Castiel's direction and Dean is glad he can conceal himself in the hotel's familiar uniform while keeping all his manners intact.

"What are you doing here?" he serves Castiel his wine. Chandelier lights dance around them. Castiel squints at him.

"You're supposed to be mine," the petulant growl made Dean raise an eyebrow.

"You did not tell me you're going to return soon-"

"Well, I'm here now so let's go to my suite, I want you,"

Dean wants to go up there with him but for the first time since indulging Castiel, Dean finds himself saying the opposite than his usual yes. It's his etiquette John Fucking Winchester uphold him with. To be a responsible adult.

"I'm sorry, but I have work to do and don't," he hisses when Castiel tries to reach his hand. His blue-eyed demon, not slowly, has become his blue-eyed angel for holding 707 their heaven, pouts.

"I want you, Dean,"

"And you can have me as long as you be patient, okay?"

No, you and I will talk about this in your room but not until later, I have two tables and you're third unless you want to humiliate me in front of your brother's clients.

"I understand but... stop smiling," Castiel growls.

Dean turns back. It's to see Castiel still watching him intently. "What did you say?"

"I said don't smile at them, I... you're smiling at them... it's..." Castiel bows his head. Dean wonders if he's ever seen Castiel so lacking confidence. There's something happening there, he can tell. Quietly, he leans closer to the man, as he would when offering more than the main course and transfixes his eyes at Cas.

"Look, it's part of the job, geez, and don't tell me you're jealous, you can't be jealous."

"I am. Very." Castiel affirms and Dean has no words to say to that. Not when the blue eyes he missed so much gleams with so much want and need. Dean's lip tightens. he gives up. He's fucked for Cas.

"In the male's bathroom over the right-wing, the one for exclusive guests. Ten minutes," he whispers before straightening, but not before seeing the flare of arousal in Castiel's eyes. "Until later sir," he turns his heels, breathing hard. He knows Castiel is watching his every movement, marking his every interaction with all the guests. But Dean shines on his own, he can't help being so sociable that almost everyone wants his attention. But it's Castiel's attention and affection craves the most. Sitting there in his dark suit, sexy hair unkempt, but dark tie and suit so groomed, Dean finds himself reacting.

So when their eyes meet for the hundred times, and all tables have been served Dean knows he needs Cas the most. Dean attends two more tables who need his attention and when he glances up, Castiel's table is empty. Dean walks casually to the corner where another waiter is standing gives him the white mantle and tells him he will take a short break. A short break with him nearly running to the end of the hall once out the dining room, straight to Castiel's arms who pulls him in one of the cubicles with their bodies pressed together.

"This is so dirty," Dean says on Castiel's mouth, opening so affectionately while Castiel sucks his tongue. Strategically straddling his man who is sitting down the closed bowl, Dean sitting on Castiel's lap where he can feel Castiel's hard bulge. Cas is hard for him. Dean kisses him back longingly.

"I missed you, Dean," 

"You bet your ass," he feels Castiel pop open the button of his pants. Dean shakes his head, "Don't undress... I need to go back there,"

"You think I'm letting you back after I fuck you here? I don't want anyone seeing you... but then... let them see you looking like you've had the fuck of your life then... let them see that you're mine."

"Stop talking dirty," Dean closes his eyes and curses when Castiel pulls his cock out and starts easily jerking him. Rough lips on Dean’s mouth and he’s melting. Castiel's warm hands

“You look so good out there, Dean... so beautiful... I want to rip their eyes out looking at you... don’t you get any propositions?” Cas asks lightly, eyes narrowing at Dean. He has opened Dean's uniform and is licking on Dean's erect nipples when he asks, “Did you miss me, Dean? All those people watching you there serve them… I’m jealous of them all… you… do you want me, Dean? Are you mine?”

“Yes!” Dean huffs when Castiel pumps his cock and he doesn't care if anyone can hear them out there, with arms closing around Castiel's head, Dean's body shudders "C-Cas!"

"Good... you're mine, Dean." Castiel takes his lips and they make out with Dean's uniform in another messy tangle agent's Castiel's hands. When they get in Castiel's suite, as expected, Dean doesn't get a word out as Castel drowns him in soft kisses and masterful sucking off his cock that he nearly forgets why he was angry in the first place. It doesn't matter now that Castiel is here on the bed and fucking him. That's about their relationship summed up.

And it's beginning to make Dean sad.

"Okay, let's talk," Charlie says rather cheerfully when he catches Dean one Friday afternoon after his schedule has been changed again. Castiel doesn’t return for a week and Bobby takes the liberty of putting Dean back in the field where his audience adores him, which here means the dining area. Upon his break, there is Charlie smirking at him.

"Talk about what?"

"About what's happening to your sex life,"

Dean snorts while Charlie giggles. "What does that even mean?"

"I mean, you explaining all the hickies and all those weeks you disappearing in 707's room!"

"Geez, shit," Dean pulls Charlie inside the locker room with eyes scanning the room. No one is there's except them. He glares down his friend. "Don't shout that out loud, you want me to lose my job?"

Charlie grins. "Like you care about your job now, you only care about your handsome prince on 707. You know... Cas?"

"Charlie," Dean scowls. It's true. Call it blind love or whatnot but Dean's been a bit in cloud nine whenever he thinks of Castiel. Dean finds himself missing the guy every time he walks past the room around in daylight, asking himself every day why he and Cas don’t have each other’s number. The answer comes to him- he doesn't ask. And Castiel being the busy art director for different movies and countries will surely have time chatting on the phone too. It's one of Dean's strict regulations of not putting Castiel in his regular life where he will be missing him, like a normal couple.

Which gets him asking... What are they?

"It's nothing serious," he tells his best friend.

"Oh, I think it's serious. I think you're lovesick Dean, and I think you're missing him."

Dean's expression crumples and he leans back on the doorway with a heavy heart.

"You're right Charle, I miss him, like a lot," Dean looks away, his eyes stinging, "I mean... he's an idiot. He takes more jobs than he can handle because people appreciate his art and that's the only thing important to him... he's so professional that... I know sometimes I wake up without him on the bed, you know why? He's on business calls, he's either out there in the balcony calling to the other half of the world, while I sleep... he keeps working and he still finds time... to come back here, he doesn't really have and I'm afraid to ask... Because you know... we can't ask angels to stay right?"

"Oh, Dean," Charlie hugs him. Dean stays silent. He's not going to crumble down. He's not going to ask Castiel to stop whatever it is that he is doing, he's not going to be selfish like that. There is a compromise in every relationship and this is his. Castiel can spread his wings. Castiel can explore the world. Castiel can be himself, as long as he returns to Dean.

“707’s line is dead.”

Dean freezes. It’s the second week of Castiel missing in the hotel to the point that every night his mind has begun wandering aimlessly if his heaven in 707 is nothing but a dream, To step inside the locker room after smoking outside to calm his nerves, he finds Charlie eating parfait by the couch alone.

She begins talking immediately when Dean comes in. He must’ve looked so pale because Charlie stares at him before saying, “I mean, the Blue-eyed-angel must’ve unplugged the phone when he came in ten minutes ago—”

Dean doesn’t let Charlie finish. He’s out of the door quickly

He sees an outline on the couch fast asleep, his silhouette against the moonlight. Dean feels his heartache. There is his angel, dead to the world looking tired and spent still on his trench coat when he passes out on the couch.

Dean walks to him quietly. Castiel sleeps deeply on his stomach, face pressed on the couch with the easy sound of his breath. His left-hand hangs limply at the edge of the couch, his right-hand clutching on the cord of the phone which has fallen down the table with its long beeping sound. Dean’s lip tightens. Castiel was reaching for the phone to call for room service.

_To call Dean._

But he’s too tired. Damn idiot tired himself again. Dean is used to that. It’s the same with the night he encountered the sleeping blue-eyed-demon getting dragged around by Balthazar. When he heard Castiel was asleep, he knew then that Castiel was a very bad workaholic. Knows Cas had nothing in mind but his art and that he likes being with Dean because Dean can make him feel good. A reprieve from his busy schedule, an Eden from work. Castiel is busy chasing his dream, busy making a difference. All Dean can do is to support him. Dean is happy enough to serve him like that.

Dean quietly takes the cord from Castiel’s hand and returns it to the table. He gently tucks Cas’s hands back to the soft couch. He then takes Castiel’s left hand, sits on the floor where he kisses Castiel’s left palm and hooked it around his neck so it lays on Dean’s chest. He drops his head back where he feels Castiel breathing on his hair. He stays there, guarding Cas, waiting for hours to break, listening to the sound so achingly familiar in his chest.

He wants to kiss Castiel but he waits.

He missed Cas. God, he missed him a lot. Het let Castiel sleep in silence and stares at the darkness of the room, to the lights to the skyscraper outside the window, waiting, waiting… until he falls asleep.

Amidst his chaotic memory, he feels someone tugging in the front of his shirt.

“Dean.” Says a rough voice. Castiel is trying to drag him on the couch. Dean scrambles to his feet and lets Cas pull him to his body, now half lying on his back by the couch. He easily fits on Castiel’s arms, their cheeks pressing with light kisses as Dean succumbs to the heaviness of his body.

“Dean.” Castiel nips his lower lip.

“You’ve been gone long,” Dean says accusingly but he turns his head and sinks his tongue inside Castiel’s open mouth. The taste of Cas, to be in Castiel’s space again, Dean presses their lips harder

“I miss you…”

Castiel hums and tucks Dean closer to his body, inhaling Dean fully before he falls back to sleep once again. Dean doesn’t pull away. He rests his head on Castiel’s chest, silently listening to the sound of his beating heart, proving to him that Castiel wasn’t part of some whacko wet dream, telling himself it’s all real. He stays there, lying on Cas’ sleeping form, wondering not for the first time if he can trap Castiel there to stay with him forever.

What a sap. He’s sure Castiel will laugh in his face with that cute crinkle of the corner of his eyes when after he fucks Dean when they woke up. Of course, they won’t talk about it. No reason to bring up something ridiculous and something that doesn’t matter to Castiel.

Castiel is here back in Dean’s arms. It’s enough.

_“Dean…”_

Dean sinks back to the ground and unbuckles Cas’ belt and pulls down his zipper. He takes Cas’ cock watching how Castiel shudders. Dean strokes him, lets his cheeks graze the side of his length, eyes transfixed at how Castiel’s chest heaves up and down.

Dean is the only one who can make him feel that. He doesn’t doubt it. He takes Cas’ cock in his mouth. Castiel jerks forward instinctively, head of his cock nudging inside Dean, making Dean’s eyes water in slight pain.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel quickly says and it’s the sincerity in his eyes, the way he caressed Dean’s throat, the corner of his mouth that makes Dean fall for him harder. He sucks Castiel without holding back, letting Castiel feel how special he is for Dean, how Dean feels deeply for him as he lets Castiel buckle and cradle his head and fuck Dean’s mouth. The tiny cries that escape Castiel’s lips

And Dean thinks it’s worth waiting for.


	5. Check Out

Dean is nervous as he waits for the private elevator to open. He cannot imagine himself riding one meant for the higher-ups with passcode used by executive members to get to the director's room because that is right, Dean is heading straight to their director, Michael Milton's office. For what reason, Dean is about to find out. 

Waiting with his nerves on edge, Dean tries to remember anything that could have made his boss pay attention. So okay, maybe it's something to do with Castiel being back. Dean has returned to his owl nightshift because the Blue-eyed demon has returned. Bobby knocks Dean's head and tells him to stop looking so smug, but it's not this that made Dean worry about his status. It's frigging Michael asking to see him after that.

He checks his clock. It's past midnight. Castiel will be very angry. The elevator opens and there's a secretary, Anael, who leads Dean to Michael's room. The executive room is priceless, it's huge and with marble walls that can only belong to the top hotelier. Michael is behind his desk when Dean finally meets his eyes.

"Good evening, Dean...Ah, I see it's already past midnight. How do you greet each other around this time?"

Dean shrugs and scratches his head dorkily. Michael's eyes soften, "Please sit, Dean, I have something I wish to speak with you about."

"Um..." Dean blinks hard but nods and chooses the chair opposite his boss. He sits there awkwardly for a moment while Dean swallows in discomfort. Then Michael's eyes gleam.

"I heard you're dating my brother,"

Dean freezes, but it's really not something he is surprised about. The next thought is about getting fired to which Dean finds himself grimacing. Damn protocols against hot guests and brothers of the owner. He is so doomed.

"Yeah..."

Michael nods. "Thank you for taking care of him."

Dean looks up, Michael Milton looks deadly serious. "He... Castiel really is not affectionate and he has his own... world if I might say. And I thought the only thing caging him here is me, but then I come to find out I'm not the one holding him back anymore."

"I'm not holding him back," he gripes.

"I don't intend to make it sound like it's bad, Dean. Of course, you are not... but I wished you could be like Balthazar... Balthazar goes around him in every trip, all those dates they did... But I need someone like you to ground my flighty brother, and that's exactly what you're doing to him. You know he's been returning here in the hotel for the previous months on his own, even when his job requires his full time in Japan or New Zealand, or Europe... and I'm glad he has found someone he cares about but it's not doing his body good. I'm worried for my brother's health, Dean."

Dean stares at Michael. Does he expect Dean to become a doctor all of a sudden?

"What exactly do you want me to do, sir?"

"I want you to stop working here and go with him. Accompany him wherever he goes so he doesn't have to return here again and again, especially with his new signed contract in Europe,"

"Isn't that a bit... missing the point? He told me you want him here to take care of the hotel."

"It's for the hotel in Europe," Michael says business-like, "he won't do it for me, he keeps telling me he wants to stay here now, but advertisement is necessary there and I want him to take the job. He is awfully creative and I don't want anyone holding him back. So please, if you can go with him I'll even triple your wage."

Dean smiles coldly. Now that does it. 

"Thank you for the offer sir, but... I think I'm quite happy here with my wage." 

With that, Dean leaves the room with his mind made up. Going to Europe, going around the world, Dean is not fucking holding Castiel at all. He thinks Michael has some good intentions there, but to think Dean is going to do it because of money? What does Michael think of him?

And Cas? Is Castiel ever going to tell him this at all?

He can't keep up with Castiel at all.

“I’ll go to Europe.”

Dean freezes while he places the dish in front of Castiel and for him to share on the round table. He tries not to look affected for a second and quickly puts the fruit cocktail on the table too. It’s not like Michael didn’t warn him.

“How long?” it’s the most important thing.

“It’s a big project with three big studios involved and it may take months—”

Dean has heard enough. He closes his hands on uncorking the bottle but his hand slipped a few times. He’s glad Castiel didn’t notice, too busy cutting his pork. Dean busiest himself with the bottle until it comes undone. He puts it back the

“Is that all, sir? I will return later to my workspace now."

Castiel’s head snaps to him in surprise.

“Dean?"

“I’ll get back to clean later, sir. I’ll see you later.” Dean turns—

“Dean?” Castiel calls, half standing up. “What’s wrong?”

Dean looks past Castiel blankly, not really trying to meet his eyes. “I have work, sir, I—”

Castiel is in his space at once, the familiar furrow of his brows when he squints and stares Dean dead in the eyes searchingly knocks the air out of Dean.

“Dean, what are you saying? Is something wrong?”

Dean doesn’t answer. Castiel’s irises dilate and he cups the frame of Dean’s face.

“Dean, talk to me, please…” he whispers gently, “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

Dean pulls away, repeats the same broken radio of the room attendant that he is until Castiel pulls his face closer so their eyes are deeply looking into each other. And Dean hates how Castiel looks deep in his eyes.

“Dean?” Castiel says more firmly, in authority and Dean hates him for being the guy who is able to face the world without looking back, without worrying about anyone looking out for him, so carefree and just… _free._ He knows nothing in this world can stop Castiel Novak when he wills it. That’s how Castiel rolls.

“It’s really nothing, I… gotta do a job here same as you.” he starts slowly, reaching for Castiel’s hands and pushing it down to their sides, “I mean you know… you didn’t have to tell me about Europe… I… you just can do it like the usual, just disappear for weeks, right? And uh… I’ll just do my job here…I am not holding you back okay? I’ll just be here... you don't even need to come back."

Their eyes meet and it's sharp and intense. It's Dean who pulls away.

"Anyway. I’m sorry, I’ll get the dishes—” his voice constricts. Castiel reaches for his wrist and holds him firmly. Dean figures he must’ve swayed. He doesn’t know anymore except Castiel holding his gaze.

“Of course you will be here, Dean… you won’t go anywhere.”

And that’s about it that breaks Dean’s heart because Castiel is right. Michael is right.

Dean will still be here no matter, waiting for his blue-eyed demon now a prince to come back and sweep him off his feet. Wait for Cas to kiss him senselessly until his dumb enough to feel the ache of being alone for days. It’s the truth, nothing would change. Castiel will come back and go and Dean will still be here… let the angel go and fly... so what’s wrong?

Dean is going to be so alone.

“I uh… I’ll get you more drinks…”

Castiel doesn’t let go of his hand.

“Cas…” Dean tugs away. Castiel steps closer, pulling Dean’s hand up to his chest.

“I don’t understand, Dean… why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

Dean opens his mouth to answer. Castiel looks at him the same way with a slight tilt like he’s trying to figure things out.

“You really don’t know?” Dean asks weakly. He sees a flash of fear in the blue eyes that surprised him a little. But then… maybe Cas is also human too. And Dean being human is a hot mess. “I can’t be like this Cas _Always waiting for you… not knowing when or how or if you’re even returning!_

“I’ll give you my phone number,” Castiel says coolly, shoving his hand inside his pants and giving it to Dean. “Here, give me your number. Dean, I’ll—”

“No, go to Europe, go everywhere you want, I can’t stay like this anymore. I’m sorry, Cas—this isn’t you, okay?” There’s no response from Castiel and Dean takes his leave. He escapes the room. He needs to fucking end it if he can't even commit. Castiel is not part of his life, he's only the guy he fucks in the evening. It doesn't have to change, it doesn't have to have more. With tears in his eyes because he knows its coming closer. Castiel finally leaving him behind, like how the Blue-Eyed Demon disappears on them like some hotel myth.

Castiel is going to go and Dean is finally letting him go.

So, he stops himself. He stops his heart. He can’t have Castiel and that’s the end of everything. 

Dean pushes the cart on the corridor to the right without even glancing over his shoulder to Cas’ room. He doesn’t get why he’s still sulking when it’s been five days since he last saw the guy. He’s irritable, that’s obvious. But there’s a job to do, delivery to give and since no one but him is available while he avoids 707 at all cost, he finds himself outside another door and he knocks thrice. “Good morning sir—"

The door opens and a naked guy—only in a towel. Dean lost his bearing and for a second his jaw drops at the tan, muscular body of a handsome man—Gaston beauty and the beast built—of his Doctor Sexy.

“Oh, what do we have here? A sweet candy?” the man says with stunning grey eyes leering in his direction but Dean didn’t care. He reads the list and puts the tray where the celebrity wants it without trying to show how he’s buzzing with excitement.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” he asks, smiling politely.

“D’you have any kind of you know… special service?” the deep voice has gone too suggestive for Dean to ignore. If this was any other person, he’d be snarky and glaring—but this is different—this is his fucking Dr. Sexy! The guy who’s got it all body, face, and charisma and checking him out. Dean thinks it's trouble especially with his heart still in a fragile state.

“No, sir we do not have that on the menu,” Dean says calmly, though he could not make any eye contact. His ears are burning. He’s been crushing on this guy for many years and now here he is, one step away from Dean with only a towel holding whatever sized up jewels are hiding there.

But professional as he is, Dean kicks the gears. “If there’s nothing more I can do for you sir, I will take my leave.”

“Yeah, collect this after three hours. I still got time for my girl.” He meowls and Dean feels the hair on his body stand up at the sound of his voice. Because fuck it all, he’s staring at him. Doctor Sexy is staring at him like a leopard mouthwatering at a piece of meat.

_He wants him._

“Thank you, sir.” Dean closes the door after him and walks quietly along the corridor.

When he reaches the elevator, he holds himself up, but the breath that exited his lungs drags out long and heavy. _Fuck._ What power. What _charisma_ , no wonder the guy is his god.

Dean can feel his sweaty cold back.

It’s incomprehensible to be in front of someone he’s admired for a very long time. It’s like his body was all turned into jelly, the guy sucking all his energy. He never fathomed it to be so powerful, it scared him at some point.

Wiping his brow, he steps out of the elevator shaking his head.

Staring transfixed at the small card hours later, Dean licks his lips, his ears pink.

The fact that Dr. Sexy— _the famous Dr. Sexy wants to meet him personally… shit._ Dean internally struggled. Going inside the suite of a well-know celebrity is something he’s done numerous times. But Dr. Sexy? _The Dr. Sexy?_ Dean can’t keep the butterflies in his stomach. He knows it’s compromising to accept the invitation, but he’s off duty now and he only wants to keep that blissful feeling at the pit of his stomach that has been soured for so many days.

The elevator opens and steps in, turning to hit the 7th floor when someone else enters before the elevator closes.

Dean freezes. He recognizes the same dirty trench coat on top of the business suit. He slowly looks beside him to finally see those familiar blue eyes that immediately set the motion in his body. He remembers him too well. Flutters of emotion invaded his stomach and all at once, Dean wants to do many things, but he kept himself. It’s like his whole world was turned upside down.

“Hello, Dean.” His voice sounds an octave deeper.

Dean pauses, the dejection in his stomach, recalling the last time he saw Castiel.

“Dean about—”

The elevator opens and Dean springs out on the other direction of the seventh floor. A hand pulls him back.

“Where are you going?” Cas asks sharply, holding his elbow firmly.

“Let go.” Dean says, not looking back.

“Y-you’re not coming with me?” the voice sounds so crestfallen that Dean stops struggling to look him in the eyes angrily.

“Why, Cas? So you can leave me again while you have dates with your boyfriends?” Dean tugs his elbow back. It throws him off that Castiel looks so surprised—so unaware of his feelings, it only ignited more bitterness to come out. He can feel his flesh burning, searing in hurt. Even though he knew it’s not Cas’ problem that he’s feeling like this. He couldn’t stop it.

“News flash, I ain’t for the sharing type so do what you do and leave me alone okay?”

“What? I don’t— what are you….” Castiel blinks in confusion, “Is this about last week? Dean I—”

“Look, you don’t have to explain anything to me.” Dean raises both hands up, his expression conflicted but he tries to smile. “We’re not even a thing, and I’m… I’m not really expecting anything, alright? You have your busy mysterious life—do that. But I can’t keep up, okay? It’s clear to me now, we have different lives…” his voice constricts. Dean’s sure if Castiel touches him now, he will explode.

Castiel just look so lost to him, Dean stops the urge to hug him. He can’t do that. Can’t give in. Cas already has the upper hand.

_Upperhand?_

Dean’s lips quivered. Does he just have to realize how much he’s in love with the guy now? His headaches, his heart getting crushed—both in synchrony to reach for Castiel but he can’t. He can’t give everything… otherwise, he will be the same old guy crying in the living room. He can’t be that person… even when deep inside, he wants Cas to wrap him in his arms.

“Dean, let me explain—”

“No, we’re done.”

“Dean?”

Two pairs of eyes turn and fell on Mr. Tall, dark and handsome figure of Dr. Sexy— _Henry—_ standing behind Dean wearing a loose white winter shirt. He stares from Dean to Castiel with a look of surprise.

“Woah. Am I disturbing anything?”

“Who are you?” Castiel stiffens, deep voice almost growling suspiciously.

The look of pure comedy in Henry’s face for not being recognized would have made Dean laugh, but he’s just so worn out. Like all the happiness there is in the world doesn’t work out in his eyes anymore.

“I’ve been waiting for you. You okay?” he takes a look at Castiel before leaning to peer down Dean’s eyes. Dean nods, licking his lips, glad he’s not fucking crying at how painful he’s feeling. But it must’ve shown in his eyes too because Henry’s expression turns serious.

Castiel is staring at him to Henry, gears at the back of his mind working.

“Yeah, fine.” Dean clears his throat. “Sorry, I was late, I got delayed… He’s just someone I know…” he doesn’t look at Cas.

“Who…?” Cas’ voice falters weakly.

Dean looks at him coldly. “Forget it, Cas.”

The tension between them is too much, he has to run away. He thanks Henry when he clears his throat again. He looks up and meets the serious gray, grateful Henry looks like he understood. Like he knows. Why not? He’s mature. Dean exhales and nods again.

“Yeah, it’s nothing, c’mon.”

Henry nods with a glance at Castiel again who’s fallen silent. “Okay, let’s go to my suite then.” He puts a hand around Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean.” Cas croaks.

“Shall we go to my suite?” Henry asks his eyes twinkling.

“Yeah…” Dean swallows hard. Those grey eyes are so captivating too.

“Dean.”

“Bye, Cas.”

Dean wished his stomach would stop falling down that bottomless pit. He lets Henry stir him along the corridor, his world crumbling apart. A voice in his head is screaming. Dean wants to scream, but he has to do this. Even when the next day, he’s sure he’ll still want Cas. He’ll always want Cas…

It’s too late— _he’s in love with the guy._

_“Dean, I’m sorry.”_

Dean stops on his tracks. The world has gone silent and all he could hear is that gravelly voice. Castiel whose voice used to be so calm, now shaking.

“I was wrong… I was just so happy around you, to have you, I didn’t think of your feelings at all. I thought you’d be okay with just us together too. I thought you didn’t mind me away because that’s how I always roll. And I was so happy you were always there for me at the end of a busy week. You were always there for me. I didn’t know I was already hurting you, I’m sorry… I was being selfish. I didn’t want to think of the possibility that you will reject me, reject my lifestyle so I didn’t say anything… I… was so afraid of thinking I’d lose you because of what I do… because of what I am… now that I think about it, I am being selfish. Dean…I…but I still want to be with you… but I realize it’s not enough…”

Dean turns. Castiel is looking at him, just him with eyes swimming in tears.

Cas doesn’t look away. Dean can’t too. There’s just a string between them that won’t cut. Dean can see him swallowing hard, can see his eyes look around like he’s lost. Can see Castiel struggling to find more words to say but ends up only breathing shakily.

“I apologize for making you unhappy.”

Castiel turns and walks away in silence

Dean steps forward with following Cas. Dude said many things but one thing registers.

_—want to be with you—_

He fucking walks away.

“This idiot…” he whispers. He glances at Henry who’s already looking at him. There’s a moment where they both register what Dean wants to do and that’s not to geek out with his Doctor Sexy. Henry shrugs and puts both hands inside his pockets.

“Looks like I’m going cancel this appointment, huh?”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Go get him tiger. Show him your feelings. More words don’t need saying between you two as far as I can tell.”

“Yeah.” Dean does. “He’s a one-mindset kind of guy. But I love him.”

“Okay, I lost.” Henry pats his back. “What a shame.”

Dean narrows his eyes at the celebrity, then gives the retreating figure one long glare. He’s running. He hears Henry laugh before walking away too—but Dean can only concentrate on Castiel’s back disappearing on the curve.

He replays what Castiel said as he hurries to catch him. Cas said he wants to be with him—

“Hey, I’ve been waiting here for you! What the hell was that from Inias! You missed your flight an hour ago!”

Dean stops on his tracks to see Balthazar standing by 707 with Castiel in front of him. Cas’ head still hanging down. “What’s wrong? Cas—are you— _are you crying?”_

Balthazar cups Cas’ face and pulls it up to have a better look— he didn’t see Dean come beside him until he’s shoved backward on the door, Castiel pulled from his hands.

 _“Don’t touch him,”_ Dean growls, pulling Cas on his body and glaring at the copyreader. Balthazar looks at him indignantly when he straightens up.

“What the hell, Winchester!” he steps forward but then stops.

Dean huffs, then look down. Castiel is staring at him in surprise.

“Dean…” his eyes fill with tears. Dean’s expression softens and he wraps comforting arms around the man, left hand gently holding the back of Cas’ head and pulling him so his face is just by Dean’s neck. Castiel’s body shakes and he wounds his arms on Dean’s waist in response.

Balthazar watches them while Dean glares at him.

“Don’t touch him.” He repeats, his blood boiling.

“Are you really an idiot?” Balthazar crosses his arms, “You think I’d do anything to _Cas?_ He’s my best friend for fucksake.”

“That’s why.” Dean says, digging his fingers on the meat of Castiel’s arm. He doesn’t believe for one second Balthazar is immune to Cas. Never believed it for one second. The memory of how Balthazar looked at him the first time they met each other still stings him until now. “What are you doing here?”

“Unbelievable.” The copyreader lifts an eyebrow up, “Castiel who’s supposed to be in a Japan flight right now after New York just disappears without a word? Where else am I supposed to wait for him but here?”

“Japan…?”

“Oh sure, from fuck up buddies straight to his manager now, are you?”

“ _His boyfriend_.” Dean glares. “Just answer the damn question.”

Castiel's mouth drops and there's a little bit of color returning in his cheeks. Dean blushes too, even Balthazar seems oddly done with a whisper of 'finally'. Without another word, Balthazar turns and input Castiel’s code. The door opens and he steps aside with a grim expression on his face.

“I’ll fix it up with the studio.” Balthazar whips his phone out. “So you do your job and fix him.” He looks Dean in the eyes. “Stop making it hard for him, the guy’s being burnout in work already.”

“Balth… stop it.” Castiel pushes a little from Dean but he doesn’t detach his fingers from where he is clinging. He looks at his best friend gratefully. “Please tell them—”

“Leave it to me, Cas. Deadlines on the weekend don’t stand a chance with you when in your in good mental health. Take care of yourself.” He made a move to embrace Castiel but Dean just won’t let go. With a smirk at the Dean’s jealous face, Balthazar left them.

Dean ushers Castiel in the room with the heavy door closing with a click. The room is dark but they can see each other from the open light of the balcony. They stand at the front door, just staring at each other, conveying messages silently till Dean’s eyes fall on Castiel’s lips.

“Dean…” Cas’ voice sounded weak.

Dean sighs. God knows how much he wants to kiss Cas. Kiss him from the elevator. Kiss him when he was saying something about wanting to be together. But he needs to stop himself for now. They can’t fix this with fucking their brains out right now— there will be plenty of time for that later, but for now, Dean half carries, half drags Cas to the couch.

“You flew from New York?” he asks quietly, setting Cas down the couch and joining beside him.

Castiel pulls away from him a little and holds his head on both his hands.

“I’m sorry…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean asks gently, this time.

“I… I didn’t want to alarm you about how… how far I’ve been traveling around.”

“Why?”

Castiel wipes his palms on his cold face and finally looks at him. “You said before… you didn’t want to be with someone who’s always away and I….” he inhales deeply and slumps his body forward. Dean watches him. Castiel looks so worn out and tired.

He takes a grab of the slender arm and tugs it back to his. Their eyes meet.

“So you’re going to jump in airplanes to return to me?” Dean growls when they’re face to face—then he freezes. Castiel’s lips are bleeding from the way he’s biting them. The dark lines under his eyes become visible to Dean. His defenses quickly drop. “Cas?” he reaches a hand to wipe away the blood. Castiel just stares at him. Getting a better look at Castiel now, he sees the man’s hair are still unkept as before, his shirt barely tucked in like he’s winded. Like he ran a marathon.

“Yes.” Castiel says helplessly, “I don’t know what to say… I just want you.” He’s still shaking. Dean can read him as clear as an open book. He looks down their hands intertwining hands and pulls Cas closer. Castiel did not fight it. In the end, Dean lays on his back, head on the armchair of the couch with Cas on his arms, half his body covering Dean. 

“When did you last sleep?”

“It doesn’t matter…” Cas tucks his face on the burrow of Dean’s neck, inhaling. “I just want to be with you… thank you for coming back to me…”

Dean grumbles and finally wraps his other hand on the man, hands rubbing the slender back as he tries to cave in Cas in his body as he could. Their bodies are both hot in the dark.

“Because you’re an idiot. You tell me you want to be with me, then you walk away—how’s that gonna work for you? You just walked away again, Cas.”

“I thought… I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” Cas sniffs.

Dean pulls his head back with a frown. “Because you didn’t tell me where you were! I didn’t even know if you’re still alive or something! You just always disappear! How’s that different from long distance—?”

Castiel bites his neck—probably to make him shut up. Dean hisses. And frowns at the man whose eyes droop back as it stares at him.

“That’s why I was afraid to tell you… I know you’d stop… you’d stop whatever we have… so when I received your message this afternoon I…”

“From New York, you flew here, run to the elevator to meet me?”

“I thought I lost you. I couldn't sleep, I needed to talk about it, I'd do anything, Dean.” Cas drops his head back. Dean sighs. Castiel isn’t on for any proper talk right now, the guy’s barely up so he just embraces him. He runs his nose on the untidy hair and presses a kiss on top of his head.

“Go to sleep, Cas.”

“I can’t.” whispers the gruff voice.

“Why not?” there’s a pause.

“You might… disappear.” Cas murmurs on his ears. Dean closes his eyes and with patients, he

“I fucking love you, idiot. So in love with you, I can’t even breathe properly when you’re not around anymore.”

Castiel looks at him blankly. He doesn’t answer. Sleepily, but he fights it. Dean can see how Cas is struggling—the guy who barely awakens in the morning, now keeping an eye on him. Dean gets lost in his eyes.

“I’ll kiss you to sleep then.” He says, leaning down and burying his mouth in those soft lips. He groans loud. Castiel’s plush welcomes him, opening instantly at the invasion of his tongue. Their tongues meet heatedly, but Cas pliantly—tiredly—lets Dean plunder everything in his mouth. Breathing hard, Dean lets his mouth savage in molten heat that is Cas. The guy who flew from New York out of the waiting area going to Japan when he texted their over. The guy who’s been working his ass out following his dream.

He doesn’t just kiss Cas, he takes him. He makes out with Cas’s weak mouth, sucking the breath out of his lungs. He runs his tongue in every corner of the man’s heated cove, nibbling on his bottom lip till Castiel’s head falls back behind him. Dean follows, lips catching Castiel’s.

He wraps his leg around Castiel’s, trapping his legs between his own and grinds their hips. Cas whimpers, hands closed tight on Dean’s. Their both hard. Dean kisses him again, affectionately, with love, because now he can say Castiel belongs to him. He doesn’t let up till the rippling breathe comes out trembling, till their chest are both their chest beg for air, Dean takes everything he missed until with shaky sigh, Castiel’s head falls back, asleep. Dean still showers his face with kisses.

He kisses Cas’s eyes, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead before tucking the angel under his arms again. He sighs and quietly, very quietly thanks Cas for coming back too. He falls asleep instantly, secured by the warm body against him. Secured that when he wakes up, he won’t be alone. At least, until they both figure out what to do next. Because Dean is not ready to let go.

He wakes up in the middle of the night again with the side of his bed empty. Fear grips Dean again until he hears the flush in the bathroom and there’s Castiel emerging from it. Dean sits up straight.

“Cas?”

Castiel glances his way. “Did I wake you?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“You don’t look okay…” Dean waits for Cas to sit at the edge of the bed looking paler under the lamplight. The way he is holding on his right side isn’t normal either and from experience, it raises Dean’s concern.

“Cas?” he kneels on the bed, wobbling a second as he reaches Castiel’s shoulder to hold him firmly. He can see a bead of sweat from Castiel’s forehead. He presses his palms on the temple. Castiel is cold.s

“Cas, what are you feeling?” Dean demands at once, slipping his fee on the floor and grabbing the phone by the nightstand.

“I’m fine.”

“Try again,” Dean holds the phone on his ears as he presses three fingers on Castiel’s right side. The man yelps at the pressure, making Dean grimace. After a short call, he quickly changes to his clothes then helps Cas to jog pants and jacket.

“Who did you call?”

“Ambulance.”

“What— _Dean, I have to go to Universals—”_

Dean smiles even darker as he ushers Castiel out of the door.

“Oh, no sweetheart, you’re not going anywhere.”

Dean presses a small kiss on the top of Castiel’s arms. They are now alone in a private hospital room, on a hospital bed hours after Castiel, unfortunately, contracted an inflamed appendix. Dean never left his side and partly blames himself for not serving Castiel right. He waited for Castiel to wake up so they can bicker.

"I'm sorry, I should have paid attention to your food," the irony of it is killing him.

“It's fine. I’m not going to die. Besides, with you as my meal, who needs food?"

Dean blushes but ends up rolling his eyes. “To hell with no more eating. Listen, if you and I are gonna live together, you’re gonna have to promise me you won’t let your body go or I swear I’ll stick with you like a wart! You listening, Cas?”

But Castiel’s blue eyes are bright, too bright as he focuses on Dean and he looks quite surprised for a moment before he throws himself on Dean’s arms. Dean doesn’t say anything—his arms quickly catch the man and wrap his arms around him tight, letting the familiar warmth envelop him. Castiel’s body is trembling. To see his formidable defenses, crash like this before him. Is it the surgery? He tells himself Castiel’s emotions must be around after all the drugs and morphine, but he can’t help being worried.

“Cas…?”

“You mean it, Dean? You… staying with me?”

And it hits Dean.

“Only if you want to… I don’t want to impose…” Dean bites his lips. the well of turns blocked only by his eyelids squeezing them back. Castiel’s voice quivers. Dean looks around dumbfounded.

“Cas?”

Castiel kisses his cheek and sighs.

“Dean.”

Dean kisses him. Castiel didn’t have to say anything else to make him fall in love.

Dean sneezes himself awake and he wrinkles his nose. The sun blinds him from the half-open curtain by the window but that’s not what was keeping him warm. He looks down in his arms and smiles. 

Castiel is still fast asleep on his shoulder, their bodies entangled on the couch. Castiel was discharged after a week where his brother visited him and apologizes to Dean. Castiel hears the whole story and throws a pillow over his brother's head that caught Michael straight in the face. Dean has to forgive him because of that.

Dean contents himself with just watching his baby sleep like one. From his angle, he sees just how pretty Castiel is from the long lashes and long pointed nose and hair much messier than he remembers. He notes the sharp-lined jaw and the cheekbones that just kill him every day. He leans down and kisses Cas, unable to contain himself. He wants to wake Cas, to show him those blue eyes he misses every night he touches himself.

Happy days. Castiel is Dean's happy days.

He nibbles on Castiel’s lips, feeling his boner coming quick. Castiel doesn’t stir. It makes Dean smile at how thoroughly succumbed Castiel is to sleep. But then he remembers it’s because Cas just came out of surgery. Dean watches his boyfriend affectionately.

Cas comes flying to him, he will never forget that. So he kisses Castiel, his tongue traces the seams of Cas’ close lips before he delves in and kisses him senseless. Castiel groans a little. Dean slides his free hand inside Cas’ shirt and rakes his fingers on the solid muscle of his torso. He rubs on Cas’ nipples hard, leaving his eyes open while he kisses the life out of his sleeping boyfriend. He toys with Cas’ nipples till they’re hard. He pinches the hard bud, moaning on Castiel’s lips. He slides his hand down Cas’ hip bones, rubbing the curvy lines there he likes to kiss.

He unbuckles Cas’s belt and flicks the button open. Then he takes Castiel’s half-hard cock in his hand. Another moan, he strokes Castiel until his cock is hard and standing. He doesn’t stop fondling the balls he will get in his mouth later.

He kisses Cas, gets surprised to find the blue eyes finally looking at him. Dean leans back smiling.

“Morning babe.” He curls his fingers on the head of the cock adoringly, seeing the glint of arousal alive behind the mesmerizing blue.

“Hello, Dean. Now suck.” Growls his boyfriend languidly, and there’s something about the control in his voice, the calm command that almost made Dean come. Fuck, he’s so fucked for this man. With heart racing in excitement, he pulls his left arm under Castiel who shifts on the empty spot he left to sit up with on leg on the floor, the other on his elbow.

Dean stares at the cock glistening in front of him and swallows hard. He looks at Castiel who’s already staring at him with pure encouragement.

Dean crawls to Cas and kisses his lips. They make out for the better part of the minute before Dean leans down and swallows the entire length inside his mouth. Castiel exhales, head tipping back as he cards his right hand on Dean’s hair.

“Dean… you’re so beautiful…” Cas whispers.

Dean begins bobbing his head with a determined look in his eyes as he suctions avidly. Castiel melts in his mouth with groans.

He lets up and sucks on the tip of the head, getting off with Castiel stifling his voice. Dean sucks the heads and tongues the slit before pulling up to stroke Castiel tenderly, rubbing the precum and spit down the pulsating cock. They both smile and when Dean swallows again, he’s looking straight at Castiel. He knows how Cas loves to see him like that. Knows how aroused Cas is, he can feel him swell even more inside his mouth.

“You’re amazing, Dean…” Castiel says, reaching a hand to Dean’s chin and wiping the spit on the corner of his mouth. Dean sighs on the touch before running his lips across the vein ribbed length and kissing Castiel’s balls. He strokes Castiel up while he takes care of each in his mouth. But when Castiel tugs on his hair, he knows his man is waiting for his mouth.

He swallows Cas again, this time, he lets Cas thrust in. Holding him by the hair, Castiel thrusts inside his mouth repeatedly. Head of cock hitting the back of his throat, he hears Castiel’s breathe hitch, knows what’s to come so Dean holds Cas’

“Dean—I’m… _oh…fuck, I’m coming.”_

Dean doesn’t let him pull this time. Pressing his fingers on the tender ass, he lets Cas explode inside him, tasting the bitter come and sucking harder. Castiel buckles forward.

“Dean—”

Dean only sucks harder till the last spurt. He lets Cas inside as they catch their breath, then Castiel is pulling him to his knees. Pulling his cheeks, Castiel kisses him hard. Saliva and semen mix and blend. Dean wraps an arm around his boyfriend, moaning when Castiel unzips his fly and takes his cock out. Cas strokes him but he’s already so hard.

It takes about ten minutes— and still, Cas won’t move.

“Cas—fuck me, dammit.” Dean tugs on Castiel’s hair.

Castiel growls and pushes Dean back on the couch, topping him. There’s a dark gleam in his eyes that arouses something primal in the man. This is the Blue-eyed devil he’s met—the guy who pulled him on the bed and ravished him.

Dean’s pants get too tight. Castiel stares at him hungrily, eyes roving around for things he can eat.

“It seems you have taken advantage of my moment of weakness.”

Castiel slides hands under his arms and lifts him— _fucking lift him—_ and Dean growls as he wraps his legs behind the man. Castiel brings him to the wall, their eyes intense and heated.

Castiel presses him hard on the wall, biting him as he impales the head of his cock inside Dean’s aching hole. There’s a moment where Dean struggles and cries in pain—but the pain doesn’t last as Cas cock’s slides deep, the position helping the quick penetration.

There’s a pause as they both breathe hard on each other’s shoulder Dean stares at the opposite wall where the large mirror is. He sees himself there, staring at himself up the wall with both legs on each side of Castiel’s arm. Cas with half his jeans down his thighs. Both still half-clothed.

It looked so dirty.

It looked so hot.

He wraps his arms behind Castiel and pulls himself a little more so when Cas begins to fuck him, he hits his magic spot at once. It drives Dean crazy.

“Cas!” he cries again and again. It's all wild and crazy and the best thing, they really have just begun.

“I don’t want you to go yet,” Castiel says, kissing Dean’s nape as they sit together inside the large bathtub. Dean hums quietly in front of him, relaxing with his back flat on Cas’ chest. Cas has both hands pressed on Dean’s torso, letting his hands play on the muscly humps and tugging on Dean’s curls beneath.

“Not going anywhere…” Dean sighs, eyes drooping.

“You don’t have any duties today?” Cas says in his right ear. Dean hesitates. Cas must’ve felt it because even without looking at each other, he can tell something’s wrong. He stops playing with Dean’s soft cock and straightens on the bathtub. “Dean?”

“It’s nothing… not a big deal…" 

“I distinctly remember our promise last night when we told each other there should be no more secrets between us.” He kisses Dean’s ears encouragingly. “Let me hear it, Dean.”

Dean opens his eyes. “I got fired.”

“What?” Castiel turns sharply, “What happened?”

"I took on another job," Dean says, turning his body just to kiss Castiel's mouth. Upon position play, he loses it. Castiel's naked body presses hard on his own.

"What job?" he growls.

Dean doesn't answer. He can't tell him yet. He feels Castiel's weight, Castiel's cock rubbing against his and his mouth drops. Breathing hard, Castiel just knows how to make him cum. 

Dean swallows hard. The same electrifying feeling is back in his veins and it’s prickling on every pore of his body. But he frowns at the question. Castiel crawls on top of him. Dean can feel their body pressing as he slowly slides on the armchair, trapped between Castiel’s arms.

Castiel leans down, their nose touching. Their breaths come out hard.

“You’re in a very compromising position… are you not going to tell me about your next job? Is it dangerous? Will it involve serving other men?”

“Cas…” Dean says huskily when Castiel’s hands slide down his hips as they grind hard. Castiel doesn’t smile. He runs his hands-on Dean’s front then carefully letting his fingers run on Dean’s wet lips. Castiel traces his lips darkly.

“Don’t ever think you’re going to be safe with a guy with your face looking like this… like you’re going to give in everything.”

Dean swallows hard. His cock throbs just hearing Castiel’s low voice. Everything in his is hot. Out of impulse, he lets his tongue out and licks Castiel’s finger. If thunder can hit their bodies now, it must’ve done it that moment. Both their eyes went wide, even Castiel holds his breath.

“You are so sensitive for me… it’s like every time I touch you… you can come.” Castiel loves pumping his cock.

 _“Fuck!”_ Dean claws on Castiel’s arms.

“Are you going to stop me, Dean?”

“No…” Dean exhales, shakily, earning a smile when Dean closes his legs on Castiel’s waists. The blue eyes gleam darkly.

“I love you, Dean…”

“Shit, don’t....” Dean groans, looking up at the pink lips, “Kiss me, asshole.”

The smile on Castiel’s face is one Dean will never forget, it's bright and sunshine and he thinks he wants to make Castiel smile a lot.

After a heavy breakfast the next morning, a long-sidetracked shower together and frustrations at keeping hands from each other, Dean and Castiel managed to find clothes—Dean wearing most of Cas’ loose shirts and loose pants again, they went to Castiel’s studio located half an hour from the hotel.

“It’s the only available hotel that time, I was actually planning to transfer to the opposite hotel—Balthazar’s hotel—”

“Well, fuck good thing you didn’t take his offer.” Dean frowns as he and Cas walk together on the underground parking lot. He sees the old BMW which makes him smile. Castiel's tastes, to Dean's chagrin despite being rich, don't go past commodity.

“Stop laughing at my car, Dean. I know your car is hot, okay?”

“My Baby will be fixed soon.” He clambers on the front seat while Castiel pulls on the driver’s seatbelt.

“When is Sam’s birthday again?” Cas revs the car and quietly pulls from the lot.

“Six months from now.”

“Oh. That’s nice. You told me he has a girlfriend, right?”

“Yes, they’d been together since he was the first year.” he blinks at Castiel.

“Mmm… I see. He calls you often?”

“Yeah, he calls when he can. He promised me that but since he’s about to graduate his schedule has shifted a lot. I mean, his last call was like… last January.”

“New Year.” Castiel pulls on the highway.

“Cas, can you brief me again on what you do?”

Castiel smiles. “Dean, it isn’t a test for you to remember.”

“Yeah, but I hate it when Balthazar tells me stuff, I should know. I’m your boyfriend. Not him.”

“He’s my best friend for ten years now. There will be things that he knows ahead of you, that’s no reason to compare. But you can ask me anything that you want.”

Dean reaches for Cas’ hand on the shift stick. “Cas, please?”

“Okay. Um… I’m an Art Director. I basically manage the overall design of any project given to my team. Generally, I oversee the visual artistic elements in a production. Companies of all sizes, hire someone like me. Usually from big firms, I have already worked with from animated films to CGs. They need art directors to visualize what they want to see that sometimes they cannot explain themselves. I am there to decipher what they want to show the audience.”

“Woah,” Dean stares at him with huge eyes, “You mean like in Hollywood?”

Castiel’s eyes narrow. “Yes. Though, not so much with celebrities if you’re thinking like that. The designs are conceptualizing with the chosen actors and actresses so the animators and art director can incorporate their mannerisms on the object sometimes if that’s what the director wants. My teamwork together with other teams involved in the designing to make the project director’s vision to reality.”

“Is that’s hard, huh? I mean, you barely sleep. You had to go fly from one place to another—”

“Oh. It’s because I had to work together with the project director while working with the design team, approving designs presented on the portfolios, and had to be there when the presentation is done to the project director. It’s only hard when it’s almost deadline, but I try to juggle the schedule with the other department that needs overseeing. Graphic design and set design usually are first or last because they needed thorough checking. I had to go from places to places in a snap of a finger because most of our clients now are abroad and when you want a film by the next February, you have to fly to them because of the deadline. I have my own team I trust and when one particular company or big films hire me, I usually drag them along. You need people you can trust, people who know how your brain works if you want to beat deadlines and still make the work as unique and captivating as you first conceptualized it.”

“So that means… our fight, it cost your days?”

The car stops on a red light.

“Don’t worry, Dean.” Castiel says, entwining their hands, his blue eyes too sincere, “If we didn’t have the last few months, didn’t have today… I don’t even know how I’ll manage the deadlines. That’s probably why Balthazar was so worried.”

“Yeah, he called it ‘molting’. What’s that?”

Castiel sighs and holds on Dean’s hand tight, fixing his eyes on the road when the green light signals.

“It’s a relapse… most… if not all, most artists do have one. It’s kind of depression. No, don’t worry.” He smiles and throws Dean a small smile, “I’m able to throw all these emotions into creative outputs so I have an outlet… but there are times when after an outburst of creativity, there are just times I can’t control my relapse. It could be days, weeks… where I don’t have anything… when I feel so bad about myself, no matter the things I accomplish I just… need that one time alone where I need to let negativity crawl into me.”

“You get sad without a reason... really don't need one... emotions are quite hard to reign in," Dean looks away.

Silence falls between them.

“That’s why I’m glad you’re with me, Dean.” Castiel smiles, taking Dean’s hand and kissing the back of his hand.

Dean startles for a moment, then he smiles too. “You don’t have to feel alone anymore, Dean. I’ll be here... I'll stay beside you if you ask... maybe we can even get each other's numbers now,"

Dean grimaces. They should have done that from the start. Castiel has been a big part of his life now, walling him out is no longer Dean's peace. He buries his head on Castiel's neck.

“Stay with me, Cas. I'll stay with you...I won't go away... You don't have to bring me around the world to prove how I will always be there, anywhere you call home,"

"But you're my home, Dean." Castiel presses to him closer and their affection is just lacing their hearts, a stronger pull, a connection Dean cannot describe that is no longer physical. A profound bond. "I still want you to go with me to Europe... please? Even if it's just for a year... I can't stand being far away from you anymore."

"But your work...?"

"I told you I've been given a different job by Michael..."

"What?" Castiel squints so Dean raises his hand. 

"Don't worry, I'm just really going to use it for expenditures when I'm in Europe so..."

Castiel's face breaks into a gummy smile and it's a contrast to the blue-eyed demon in the rumors. And that's where Dean sees it, hidden beneath the layer of grumpiness is a man he loved for his warmth, for his affection, and for his care, always eager and in need of Dean. Someone who needs him badly as much as he needs him. No... Cas is no demon... on the contrary... So he doesn't regret going.

Dean licks his lips and thinks of his family and friends. Then again, just like his relationship with Cas, it's all transcendental. Dean will always have a home to his family and friends. But Castiel is where his heart belongs now, and to Castiel, he will go. So he says yes. It's time to checkout of the hotel for now.

Maybe waking up in Paris is a good way to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)


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